


Welcome to the Mad House

by DanceBoheme



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-08-29 01:28:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 36,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8470387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanceBoheme/pseuds/DanceBoheme
Summary: You'd recently lost your job, and honestly? You were ready for whatever gig could be thrown at you. Life takes an interesting turn when you answer a newspaper advertisement to work for a novel partnership. The owners? Samuel Drake and Victor Sullivan, naturally.





	1. And so it begins...

**Author's Note:**

> Just a small story that's been swooping inside my head since having completed Uncharted 4 and harbouring a mild crush on a particular "bad boy"...

You weren’t certain that you had the necessary skills required to become “customer facing”, but you were desperate for a job, after having been made recently redundant and frankly anything was worth a stab at as long as it paid. You looked down at the evening paper’s “Jobs” advertisements and mentally shuddered. How had it all come to this? You had had a secure office job in a legal firm, drafting case plans legal documents, working directly under the firm’s lead partner. But that rug had been firmly pulled from underneath your feet the moment the largest client had kicked up a stink and pulled business.  
  
You grabbed your nearest pen, and circled a few of the ads. Admin work seemed suitable, a bit of sorting here and there until you could get back on your feet again and find a suitable legal position. At least when you worked in an office, you didn’t have to face the great entitled public. One particular advertisement caught your eye.  
ADMIN REQUIRED FOR SMALL LOCAL ARCHAEOLOGICAL FIRM – ENQUIRIES IN PERSON ONLY  
  
True, it had been years since you’d studied history at school, but documentaries were always a good blag, right? And hey, your Latin was pretty good to boot. That could help.  
  
You triple circled the ad, and took a photo on your phone just so you couldn’t lose the address. You internally sighed and decided to throw the pen across the table. Your work here was done, and you still had some savings if this didn’t work out. It was time to have a well-deserved sleep, and pray that it all worked out. It had to, bad things couldn’t happen to ordinary boring people like you… Right?  
  
\- - -  
  
You walked from the station, with your Google Maps blaring out directions through headphone.  
  
MAKE A RIGHT AT THE NEXT CROSSING  
  
So it was judgment time soon, great. You smoothed the top of your dress down and mentally prepped yourself as you headed for the office, which you could see now. It was in the “bad” part of town, and you were glad you hadn’t decided to drive. A man in a denim jacket stood outside with a cigarette perched on his lips. He looked like he hadn’t shaved in days, and had a slightly grubby appearance with mud caked boots. You couldn’t tell if the boots were originally brown, or if he’d just been for a hike. He didn’t seem the normal type to be in this area- he was dressed as if he had just been for a jaunt in the Arctic with layer upon layer of clothing.  
  
You elected to put your head down as you were due to pass him shortly and rang the buzzer outside to be let upstairs into the office.  
  
“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”  
  
The man in the jacket smirked at you with a wide grin and one eyebrow cocked. You were closer now, and he was oddly attractive in a gruff sort of way.  
  
You looked up at him, as he now leaned nonchalantly on the brick wall.  
  
“Job ad”, you chuckled, “Got bills to pay, you know…”  
  
He laughed and crossed his arms. “Yeah, you sure you want to be here though?”  
  
Your brow furrowed. “What is wrong with here exactly? It seems fine. There’s even a coffee shop down the road. I mean, you don’t get much classier than that, right? Grande macchiato with skinny milk...” You laughed after having spoken and shrugged your shoulders slightly as you looked down the road towards the shop.  
  
He chuckled again, and then extended a hand. “Sam Drake. Guess I’ll be helping to interview you then”.  
  
He purred when he spoke towards the end of his sentence, and your stomach hitched just a little. He opened the door with a key and held it out for you.  
  
“Ladies first.” He spoke, without giving you time to answer. He flashed another devilish grin again at you and your heart fluttered just a little bit more.  
  
\- - -  
  
You walked up the stairs, and through another door, to a shabbily kept room with papers and folders in disarray. There appeared to be news articles hastily pinned to a notice board, and if you weren’t mistaken, a whole host of artefacts lazily placed in various nooks and crannies with no consideration. You stood with your mouth a little agape as you processed the mess.  
  
“I better go grab my business partner, he doesn’t exactly like to be kept in the dark…” Sam spoke to you, as he stepped over a pile of papers. “I’ll be back in 10 at the most.”  
  
You turned to him and nodded. “If you’re not, should I call the fire brigade in case there’s been a paper avalanche?”  
  
He flashed another grin at you, and your stomach quivered yet again.  
  
“Cute” was his only response as he abruptly turned with a swagger. He disappeared into another room, and you were left to your own devices. You clambered over a big wooden box, and headed straight for the news clippings that you had spotted earlier.  
  
D&F FORTUNES UNCOVERS ANCIENT EGYPTIAN STATUES IN MEDITERRANEAN  
  
D&F Fortunes, you’d read something recently about this- a fortune hunting company headed by man and wife. There was a picture of the couple, standing brazenly next to a dripping wet statue held up by hoists, the pair decked out in expensive scuba equipment. You read the blurb underneath the bold title. NATHAN DRAKE. As in..? You made the connection instantly and breathed out heavily.  
  
“Something interesting, kid?”  
  
You turned around instantly upon hearing the gravelly voice, to see an older man in a loose and trashy Hawaiian shirt.  
  
“Oh… Just, pretty amazing right? Finding an ancient civilization at the bottom of the sea and all…” You trailed off. How fucking stupid could you actually be to reply like that? You were at an interview, this was all part of ‘the test’. You instantly thought of a handful of wittier responses, and mentally kicked yourself.  
  
He smirked with the side of his mouth and extended a hand. “Victor Sullivan, but most people call me Sullivan. And your name?”  
  
You grabbed his hand and shook it firmly. “Y/N”.  
  
He returned the handshake and smiled wider, “A solid grip kid – so we haven’t scared you off just yet?”  
  
You looked at Sam, who flashed another grin and then to Sullivan. “Not quite yet, no. Although this place does seem to be a health hazard…”  
  
“Welcome to the Mad-House, kid!” Sullivan replied as he held his arms aloft gesturing around the room. He dropped his arms after a bit and grabbed a small box of cigars. “You mind?” he asked, as he held a cigar towards his lips.  
  
“Nah, go for it. Your place, right?” you replied.  
  
He responded by lighting the cigar and placing it in his mouth. “So, what’s your story? You seem like a nice girl, really that desperate for a job?” he eyed you up and down as he spoke.  
  
You looked down at the floor, you weren’t getting the gig. It was clear from his tone that he expected someone a little less formally dressed. You’d opted for a nice dress, blazer and brogues. In hindsight, that was probably a mistake- you looked far too professional for an admin role in a small business like this. Especially when said role would apparently be to sort out what appeared to be years’ worth of papers into some semblance of order. You didn’t have anything to lose at this point, you could either butter him up and bat your eyelashes, or go for honesty.  
  
“You didn’t ask for a CV to be emailed in, so I guess you want the honest answer, right?” you sighed. “I got made redundant, and if I don’t get a job sometime soon, honestly? I’m pretty fucked.”  
  
You grimaced. You’d sworn at an informal interview, and whilst you guessed these men didn’t mind, it wasn’t exactly a great first impression to be giving off. You were so fed up of being taken for granted and passed on at interviews. This was your 10th interview since having lost your job and you had almost given up hope.  
  
Sam and Sullivan both laughed, but quietly, as if appreciative of your candour. Sullivan turned to Sam and raised his eyebrows with the cigar still in his mouth. Sam walked towards you with his hands in his denim jacket. A sort of sultry gait as he swayed in-between stacks of disorganised clutter.  
  
“So, when can you start?”


	2. Dinner with the boss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have a beta reader, and I haven't written in forever. So I'm ever so sorry if this isn't to taste! Thank you for the hits anyway, they're pretty encouraging!

You turned up half an hour earlier than expected that very next day, and decided to mooch on down to the coffee shop at the end of the street to waste some time. It was downtrodden in a shabby chic sort of way, and the two servers behind the bar personified “hipster” right down to their man-buns.  
  
“Skinny caramel latte please, venti”  
  
You scanned the pastries in the glass case, and decided that you couldn’t quite afford to splash out that much for a few seconds worth of pleasure.  
  
You stood back after having given your order and awaited your coffee. You wondered what your first day at the office would bring, what with both owners seeming quite unconventional, and decidedly different from your last management personnel. You’d start with organising the papers, alphabetising and try for some semblance of order within the office.  
  
You jerked your head up as the barista called out your name, smiling warmly as you left a tip in the glass jar left on the bar. Well, the time was now and you were ready for whatever barrage of work was headed your way.  
  
You crossed the street, straight towards the buzzer of “Sullivan & Drake Archaeologicals Ltd”.  
  
BZZZZZTTTTT.  
  
You pressed your finger hard upon the buzzer, and waited a few seconds until a male voice answered.  
  
“Y/N? You’re early kid! It isn’t even light outside!”  
  
Sullivan chuckled down the intercom in surprise, and you heard another buzz as the door to the office clicked upon. You trudged upstairs, coffee in hand.  
  
The office was still a complete disgrace, but at least this time Sullivan had opted to emerge from his cave to greet you.  
  
“See you decided to caffeine up, no coffee for the boss on the first day?” Sullivan smiled warmly as he spoke. You weren’t really sure to respond.  
  
You glanced down at your latte, and mentally kicked yourself. It would have been a brilliant opportunity to ‘get yourself in there’ if you’d bought your boss a coffee, but you weren’t a natural brown nose.  
  
“Sorry Sullivan, I got blindsided by the décor of that place… Tomorrow maybe?”  
  
Sullivan chuckled at your comment. “I was only joking kid, don’t worry. So, Sam won’t be here until at least 10am, so I guess you can start by trying to order these documents into some kinda order?”  
  
You looked around, dazed. Where the hell were you supposed to start?  
  
“Uhhh, sure Mr. Sullivan”.  
  
“Sullivan”, he countered. “No formalities needed”, he winked at you and picked up a stack of papers.  
  
“So, there isn’t really that much order here at the moment… I get that kid, I really do. Maybe try and alphabetise?”  
  
You nodded earnestly. What else was there to do? “I’m sure I can make some sort of order, I used to work in a law firm and we ordered via client and matter number…” You grimaced internally, it wasn’t really the same here, was it? “I guess here… I can order by case name?” you countered. You didn’t think it really could really get any more complicated than that.  
  
Sullivan looked at you perplexed. “Sure kid, case name sounds brilliant. I have a few… Intricacies to deal with. You’ll be OK on your own?”  
  
You shook, like one of those nodding car toys you’d seen, smile gleaming.  
  
“Goodo kid, I’ll see you in a bit!” he said, as he stumbled past papers towards his makeshift office.  
  
Right. So order of the day was alphabetisation. Bring it on.  
  
You’d now been sorting papers for 3 hours with no sign of Sullivan and it was 11.30am. You heard someone bang up the stairs.  
  
“Heyyyyy, look who it is, the new recruit!”  
  
You saw Sam look more than a little dishevelled as he stumbled into the room. His eyes were bloodshot, and you were almost certainly sure that he’d worn the clothes that you’d seen him in yesterday. You however, had opted for a completely different attire to that of the day before. Skinny jeans, a tight t-shirt and a hoody. Comfy enough to deal with sorting papers, but tight enough that you knew you looked at least passably alright. You smiled at Sam, trying not to disapprove of his state on a Tuesday morning.  
  
“Yeah, I lasted 3 hours and Sullivan hasn’t got rid of me yet!” you paused slightly, not sure what to say next, yet you felt comfortable enough to jest with him.  
  
“Did you have a good night then?”  
  
Sam laughed at your comment.  
  
“Yeah kid” you grimaced internally at the use of the word. You were younger than him, sure, but you were 27, hardly a ‘kid’. “It was an eventful day and night, to say the least”. He careered over to you, where you’d sorted a few of the bundles of paper that were lying around. “Not too boring for you yet?” he asked, as he picked up a few leaves of paper and casually skimmed through them.  
  
You harrumphed and plopped the few papers you were sorting next to you.  
  
“I’m coping, thanks”, you replied. “Some of this stuff is pretty…” you searched for a word that wasn’t derogatory. So far, in your 3 hours there, you had taught yourself that Sam and Sullivan were glorified treasure hunters, not archaeologists. “…Exciting?” you countered, not sure if that was exactly the word you were searching for. Illegal sounded so much more applicable.  
  
He ran his fingers through his longish brown hair and sniggered to himself. “Kid, you seriously have no idea…”  
  
You grumbled inside. You hated the way he called you ‘kid’.  
  
“SAM? Is that you I hear? FINALLY!?”  
  
Sully called out from his office, you could hear the annoyance in his voice. Sam raised both his eyebrows, and shot you a cocky look, his hand raised in a mock salute towards you.  
  
“Better go see how the General is doing” he mocked.  
  
God, his cockiness was an annoyance. But also, weirdly, an attraction. You almost hated yourself for giggling at his comment. You busied yourself yet again with sorting out the papers, it was strangely therapeutic. However, you held an ear out for anything interesting that may have arisen from their conversation.  
  
“Are you fucking kidding me?”  
  
“Hey Sam, I know the deal. These guys, they play fucking hard ball”  
  
You heard something bang harshly, presumably onto the floor.  
  
“Well you know what that means Victor?”  
  
There was complete silence. Complete and utter silence.  
  
“We gotta go and show those sons of bitches, who exactly is boss. Prison rules, and all.”  
  
You weren’t really sure what to make of that. Prison rules? What the hell did that mean? Were both of your boss’s convicts? It didn’t bother you that much, after all, they’d treated you pretty well so far. Even so, it wouldn’t hurt to maybe listen a little more…  
  
“SAMUEL.” The door was slammed close. That meant Sullivan didn’t want you hearing anymore. Now all you heard were muffled noises of men talking over one another. Brilliant, now you’d never to get the conclusion to your inward fantasies of criminal activity taking place.  
  
The door opened sharply and Sam came striding out, kicking over a pile of papers as he did so. You sighed loudly, knowing that you’d be the one to sort them out. He looked down at the papers, and then looked back to you, sheepish in his expression.  
  
“Sorry kid, I didn’t mean…”  
  
You smiled back warmly. “It wasn’t your fault. I heard you shouting, is everything alright?” you offered, you weren’t really sure what to say, truth be told.  
  
He warmly looked at you, his eyes slightly crinkling at you.  
  
“Yeah… Just a business thing. You know?”  
  
You half smiled at him, not really sure how to diffuse the situation. “Well, I sorted out the Panama papers so far… And the next job will be sorting out those Parisian files I saw floating around…” you faltered. It was a really bad fucking way of making somebody feel better. But, what were you supposed to say?  
  
He looked at you, sincere. You heart skipped a beat, and you knew you weren’t supposed to feel like this towards your boss, no matter how ruggedly attractive he may be.  
“Thanks kid, you’re a real help, you know?”  
  
You blushed. What else could you do? You felt a lump in your throat as you struggled for what to say next. “Well, that’s what you pay me for!” you smiled awkwardly. It was the best you could come up with, under the circumstances.  
  
Sam sneered at you with a wide grin. “Thanks kid, we could use someone like you. Hard working and all that… And Sullivan tells me you’re smart too. Looked you up online on Linked…”  
  
“In?” you countered, as he faltered to finish the word. “Yeah, I worked in law before. Studied Law and Politics at university, and then never really made it to anything…” your words choked in your mouth as you realised what a massive failure you really were. You wondered how your parents could ever be proud of you. You yourself, weren’t even that proud. “I worked in a few firms, and worked with Contracts and Mergers. It was interesting, but ultimately… I was surplus to demands. They laid me off”.  
  
Sam looked at you knowingly, newly gilded misfit that you were.  
  
“I get ya kid. But here? It doesn’t pay too good now, but seriously… You stick around? We’ll look after you”.  
  
You nodded at him, whilst you held papers in your hands. You honestly felt safe with a man you barely knew.  
  
“Thanks Mr. Drake, it means a lot.”  
  
He looked towards you puzzingly.  
  
“Sam, just call me Sam…”  
  
He fiddled with his lighter after he had said it and breathed out deeply.  
  
“So… You doing anything for lunch Y/N? Fancy ‘business dinner’?” he waggled his eyebrows whilst saying it. You weren’t really sure how to respond- after all, he wasn’t your only boss.  
  
“Ermmm… Sure? I mean, won’t Mr. Sullivan mind?” you countered.  
  
Sam looked backwards, at the door which behind Sullivan was currently appointed.  
  
“Nahhhh, I’m pretty sure he needs some time to cool off. So… There’s a neat little burrito place a few blocks down. You game? On the boss?”  
  
You glanced down at your papers again. You really did want to go with Sam, what with the tummy flutters and all. But honestly? How did you respond without sounding ridiculously desperate?  
  
“Well…” you started, “It would be the first time the boss has ever treated me to dinner! So why not?” you beamed.  
  
He held out his hand, and again your insides quivered. It was completely wrong for you to feel like this on the second day of your job, but you weren’t so stupid that you’d let an attraction to an older man ruin any semblance of a future career like this. However, against your better your judgment you extended your hand. “Burrito’s it is then, Mr. Drake”.  
  
He smiled warmly at you and countered, “I thought I said to call me Sam”.  
  
You blushed again. You really hoped that at this point, your face wasn’t beetroot red.  
  
“Sorry. Sam, got it!” you hurriedly replied. And still he smiled at you.  
  
You both walked down to the burrito restaurant. He smoked a cigarette and you waxed lyrical about how you were still getting used to the town.  
  
“And seriously – my landlord, she actually comes down to my place to rant about her husband. She gave me a bottle of whisky for Christmas for us to share!” you laughed, as you rubbed your shoulders, it was a cold winter and you were very much aware of that.  
  
Sam chuckled, smoke poured out of his mouth as he laughed, interrupted by a slight splutter. “So, here we are. I hope you’re hungry!” he answered, as you both pulled up to the restaurant.  
  
It was gaudily lit with neon lighting, as if it would feel at home in Vegas. It had a strange eclectic charm, and the lights made the place warm inside. You took your jacket off as you sat down, and only then were you really self-conscious that you’d elected to wear a form fitting t-shirt. You hoped to God that Sam noticed… And also that he didn’t notice. Your contradicting feelings battled inside your head. As much as you fancied him, you also realised that was contradictory to your employment, which you desperately needed to keep. You picked the menu up, and pawed at it decidedly. Sam hadn’t bothered picking the menu up yet.  
  
“You already know what to order?” you offered at the silence that had settled between you. At you saying this, he decided to pick the menu up.  
  
“Might have been here a few times before, and know what’s good… Pork burrito. That’s what you want” he offered, as he kissed two of his fingers on his mouth.  
  
Your shoulders juddered as you chortled, pork burrito it was then. The waitress came with a notepad, and you both ordered a pork burrito with an IPA.  
  
“So…” Sam started, “Your old job… More interesting than this one so far?”  
  
You didn’t really know how to reply. Your old job kept your interest piqued at all times, for sure. It was interesting, and complex. This one, so far was decidedly less so. You spluttered a little before you spoke.  
  
“Well… I dealt with mergers, contracts and acquisitions before. So yeah, pretty interesting” you laughed, “But from what I’ve read of your papers so far…” you trailed off. Perhaps a line had been crossed?  
  
“I mean, I haven’t READ your papers…”  
  
Sam just smiled at you with a cocksure grin. “It’s OK kid, it’s pretty intriguing stuff we deal in, I don’t judge. Continue…”  
  
You didn’t have a chance to actually continue, thank God. The waitress arrived with your burritos and beers. You hungrily dug in to the burrito, and then remembered your company.  
  
Sam just looked at you. “Have you eaten recently?” he asked, with his eyebrows raised. You wondered if he always had such an expressive face, and then second guessed yourself that your strangeness was the cause of said face.  
  
“Sorry” you replied. “Haven’t eaten something so good in QUITE a while.”  
  
Sam looked at you with a face that implied suggestion and you yet again quivered inside, with a belly full of pork. You grimaced as you played that particular innuendo in your head.  
  
He started on his dinner, not replying and you weren’t sure what to think. As the silence fell over you both, you elected to finish your burrito and beer.  
  
“You didn’t actually finish your story, you know…” Sam counteracted against the silence. You sat there, with a full mouth and chewed quickly so you could swallow.  
  
You didn’t know how to continue your diatribe without getting yourself into trouble. It was time to use lawyerly language. “Ahem… I might have a read a few of the papers I was documenting… To, you know make sure they went in the right category?” you were pretty sure that got you out of trouble.  
He took another mouthful of burrito whilst you heard him hum in agreeance. He wiped his mouth with a napkin as the sauce dripped on each side of his face.  
  
“Hey kid, I ain’t judging. I know what we do is interesting. Why else do you think I do it?”  
  
Why did he insist on calling you kid? You were 27 for Christ’s sake, and yes… He was older. You guessed at mid-forties. But still, it wasn’t a word you were comfortable with. You were accomplished in your own right, and the word conjured up images of playgrounds and crèches. You weren’t one to be looked after.  
  
“I’m sorry Mr… Sam.” You remembered at completely the wrong moment that you weren’t supposed to be so formal. Goddamn law firms had calibrated your mind to respond in such a way.  
  
He sniggered at what you said and picked his beer up. “To new employment kid, hope it doesn’t scare you too much!”  
  
You picked your bottle up and clinked it with his. Why did you feel like such an idiot?  
  
“Yeah… To new employment. May this one last!” you joked, hoping that he didn’t hear the desperation in your voice.  
  
He looked at you warmly. “Hey, I’m pretty sure this one will. Bill’s on me by the way sweetheart, as a way of saying ‘thanks’ for sorting through our crap without complaining…”  
  
You nodded appreciatively. “Thanks... Sam” you said uncertainly. It was still odd having to call your boss by his Christian name.  
  
He put his napkin down and looked at you deeply. “No problem, Y/N. So… Back to work then? Sullivan will be climbing the walls if we don’t get back soon!”  
  
You laughed. “Yeah, I don’t need to lose another job! I should probably skip off!” you lifted slightly from your seat and he gently grabbed your wrist, no malice in his hold.  
  
“Hey, I’m here for you kid. You’re one of us now, I ain’t get going to let anything bad happen. Sullivan will be fine if he knows you were with me…”  
  
You beamed inside. His touch on your skin, was frankly magnetic. Also? He seemed to actually like you, and wasn’t about to let you get sacked for a minor misdemeanour like an extended lunch, which this would frankly be, by the time you got back.  
  
You looked at Sam, his hand still holding your wrist. “Thanks… I need this. This job I mean” you countered weakly, “”It means a lot that you even agreed to hire me!”.  
  
He again looked at you deeply, his eyes appearing to search your very soul. “It’s OK kid, I got your back. But we really had better be going soon, or he’s going to blow a nut…”


	3. Lunch over-runneth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I might have a problem in that I couldn't stop writing which is why the updates are so fast. Sorry about that!

You rocked up to the office after well over an hour’s lunch, chuckling with Sam as he smoked yet another cigarette.  
  
He opened the door to the upstairs office with his key, and held it open in a mocking gentlemanly fashion. You gracefully swept inside, and hoped you didn’t look like you were trying so hard whilst you did so.  
  
As you came up into the office, you saw Sullivan slumped over the large oak desk that was placed towards the back of the main office, with a bunch of papers haphazardly messed about.  
  
“I see you took our new recruit out for lunch without me…” he shot an accusation at Sam, accusedly. His look was one of that of knowing, with a slight hint of venom. You felt your stomach immediately hitch.  
  
“Hey Victor, this one’s on me” Sam spat back at him, his arms wide in a defeated stance.  
  
He gestured towards you, “I invited her out for a bite to eat. What’s wrong with that?” You couldn’t really say anything at this point, beyond an apology.  
  
You raised your eyesight towards Sullivan. “I’m sorry Mr. Sullivan, Sam and I only went to a burrito shack… I didn’t realise…”  
  
Sullivan shot you a look of what appeared to be remorse and sighed heavily. “Kid please, it’s just Sullivan.” He wiped his temple as he said it, a look of pity shot towards you as he said it. “Just… Make sure you make the time up, then we’re good.” He trailed off and walked again to his office, but not before he looked back at you, another glance of pity flung your way.  
  
Sam looked at you whilst he fiddled with his hands. “Hey, he’ll be alright, you know?” he spluttered, as he continued to mess with his hands.  
  
You nodded. “It’s OK, I should have realised how late I’d be… I promise I will make the time up though!” you answered earnestly.  
  
Sam looked through you. “Seriously kid, you don’t need to bust a gut. I’ll smooth things other with him”.  
  
He used that word again. By the Gods, how you hated that word, but a part of you wondered… Why had Sullivan shot you such a pitying look? Sam was an attractive man, there wasn’t really anything else left to say. You’d realised that during your lunch with him, and also your walk there and back. He was enigmatic, charismatic… A voyeur and purveyor of history, and damn did he love his work. Were his interactions with you honest, or just part of his gruff personality? A flirtation that he played with all ladies he met? On saying his piece, he moved abruptly towards Sullivan’s office and closed the door behind him.  
  
You muttered to yourself that you were an idiot. You shouldn’t be fancying one of your bosses on the first day, especially when he was so much older, and it was just a welcoming lunch. That was all. Nothing hidden behind it, despite how wonderful his hand felt upon you wrist as it gently tugged…  
  
You plonked yourself down next to where you had been sorting the Parisian papers.  
  
A gang of thieves in the 1920’s had been stealing paintings. Really fucking famous paintings, which made you wonder. You imagined having been alive in such a time, a 1920’s dame on the arm of a gangster who spoke sweetly in your ear as he conducted mischief on the side…  
  
You sighed. Chasing after the treasures there must have been exhilarating. Paris, Milan and then Rome. You stretched out as you bundled the papers together and banded them together with an elastic band.  
  
The door of Sullivan’s office opened slightly. “So Y/N… Sullivan and I have to go on a sabbatical to Texas. I know you haven’t been here that long…” Sam smoothed his long brown hair back with his right hand, “But if we leave you a key, you won’t rob us, right?” he chuckled.  
  
You looked up from the papers again, “No worries Sam, your paper crap is safe with me!” you laughed, crinkling your eyes.  
  
He gave you a warm glance, and nodded before retreating back into Sullivan’s office.  
  
You wondered what the hell you’d do without a boss. Any boss. Free run of the office on your second day, seemed frankly terrifying.  
  
Sam came out of the office, shortly followed by Sullivan.  
  
“So, our numbers are on this Post-It, in case of an emergency…” he gingerly offered the paper towards you. “You want to give us your number… You know, just in case?” he asked. His look turned almost ravenous as he asked you, and Sullivan gave him a knowing look, before walking towards you.  
  
“Numbers for emergencies are in the red ledger on my desk… Anything goes wrong, you give me a call kid. I know it’s a big ask, but if you can’t trust a lawyer, who can you trust!?” he asked, as he grinned slyly at you.  
  
You took the Post-It from Sam. “Hey, I’m bound by government bodies or something, right?” you answered, uncertainly. “Seriously though, everything will be fine, I’m sure. How much trouble can I really get into?”  
  
Sullivan chuckled, and handed you a spare set of keys to the office. “Kid, just so you know… Everything in here is worth shit. All the goodies? They’re up here” he answered, as he tapped his head knowingly.  
  
Sullivan turned to Sam, and crossed his arms whilst doing so. “I’m going to take a breather before our flight. Taxi’ll pick you up at 6.” He saluted you, in a serious manner, “Take care of this place kid, I got contacts you know…” before laughing to himself and walking down the stairs.  
  
Sam just shrugged his shoulders, before turning his glance towards you. “So, you giving me your number or what? I need to know what’s going on, or the old man’ll have my balls…”.  
  
Your eyes were almost bulging at his persistence for your number, but you brushed it off and instead laughed at his comment, grabbing the nearest biro. “I don’t have anything to write on…” you countered, faltering slightly and seriously hoping that you weren’t blushing. Sam looked around for a scrap of paper, before picking up a newspaper that had been discarded. “This’ll do” he answered, as he passed it towards you.  
  
You hastily wrote your mobile number down, along with your name. You’d pieced together that Sam may not be the sort of man to have remembered your name by now.  
  
Sam took the newspaper from you after you’d finished, and winked at you. “Thanks Doll. I’ll let you know what’s going on, so you don’t throw TOO many wild parties here whilst we’re gone…”  
  
You looked up at him, eyebrows raised. “Sam, I don’t think anyone could throw a worthy party here, besides a librarian…” you answered as you looked around the room and the papers that lay abundantly around.  
  
He sniggered at your comment. “Darling, you ain’t met the sort of librarians I’ve known…” he spoke to you, as you winked. “I’ll let you know the details at any rate, don’t have too much fun without us”  
  
You smiled shyly at him, and awaited your second day at the office. It was going to be odd, all by yourself, you had to admit that much. But at least you wouldn’t have a chance to hit on the boss, which was a plus, right!?


	4. Left to your own devices

Your phone buzzed early the next morning and you grumbled as you looked towards your alarm clock. It was 5am, which was not a sociable time for anyone to be contacting you. You furrowed your brow and groaned as the screen lit up upon your touch. You could hear your flatmate softly snoring in the next room and you envied them and their undisturbed slumber.  
  
_Hey doll. We just landed in grand ole’ Texas. Keep the place safe or Sullivan’ll have both our asses strung up! Sam xx_  
  
You read the text over and over again. Doll. Could he even actually remember your name? You didn’t know why you were so upset at that, but you were. You growled and rolled over, sleep taking you for a couple more hours.  
  
Once you’d got up and gotten yourself ready you headed for the office. You absent mindedly pawed at your coat pocket which held the keys to the office. You knew you had a job to do, and yet… You really wanted to know what was happening in Texas. You thought back to the day before, when you’d heard their argument about ‘bad men’ and wondered if those were the very men that Sam and Sullivan were meeting.  
  
Your phone however had other plans, as it buzzed again in your pocket. You hadn’t answered Sam and it had been over 3 hours now.  
  
_Everything alright Doll? Sully’s getting pretty worried that the place has gone down in flames… Hope everything’s good. Keep safe Doll. Sam xx_  
  
You read the text message and groaned. You decided to get inside where it was warm before answering him.  
  
Once inside, you took off your gloves and coat and mentally prepared for sending Sam a message back.  
  
_Hi Sam (and Sully) Everything’s good, nothing is on fire yet. Just a boring day of safe admin work for this girl! Hope Texas is nice and sunny!_  
  
You elected for no kisses on the text. You didn’t feel that it was appropriate, and you imagined that Sam was so used to placing kisses on his texts that it had become a habit for him. You glanced around the room and wondered where to start. The Panama and Paris files were sorted, and the room looked just a little more ordered, however not much. There was so much more left to do.  
  
You sat down next to a stack of newspapers, that you weren’t really sure had any relevance to anything whatsoever, however you were too scared to simply chuck. You bundled them up with a thick elastic band, when you felt your phone buzz again.  
  
_Good to hear Doll. Sully’s happy now at least which makes my life easier! Hope you’re having fun with the boring jobs – Sully’s office needs a real good clean if you want to get in his good books. Just saying. Sam xx_  
  
You smirked at the idea of Sullivan being sent crazy at the thought of you being let loose in his office. You wondered if he was mad at you, after the day’s events before and opted to take Sam up on his advice. It couldn’t hurt to brown nose a little, especially after the looks he’d given you that had been playing your head. You still hadn’t quite figured those out. Were they looks of pity because of Sam, or because he felt sorry for you landing just so low? You crept towards his office, and gingerly opened the door.  
  
If you had thought the main office was bad, this room was somehow worse. It was actually dirty, which made you grimace. Discarded cigars lay in a glass bowl, empty glasses also nearby a now empty decanter which you presumed had held scotch. Sullivan looked like a scotch man.  
  
You rolled up the sleeves of your shirt and set to work, stacking glasses together and carrying them to the kitchen. You scrubbed them shiny clean, and remembered that you hadn’t actually answered Sam.  
  
_Set to work on Sully’s room- thanks for the tip! He won’t recognise it when he’s back. Actually can’t believe how bleugh it was in there!_  
  
You pressed send and slipped your phone into your back jeans pocket and got back to scrubbing, ultimately deciding to let the glassware soak. You traipsed back to his office, and looked around wondering where to continue.  
  
You grabbed a few ledgers from his desk which had hastily written notations on the binder. You placed them carefully on a spare shelf. Your back jeans pocket buzzed yet again, and even though the mental part of you screamed to continue cleaning, you couldn’t quite help yourself.  
  
_Good to hear Doll! All’s quiet here, pretty quiet job but should be a good one! Bored now, just waiting for the shipment to load. Anything exciting happen yet on your end? Sam xx_  
  
You wondered what sort of job they could actually be running in Texas. Shipment… Horse wrangling? No, that was stupid. Sam and Sullivan were treasure hunters, not cowboys. You grinned as you imagined Sam in a cowboy hat, he’d look good. Confederate gold? You weren’t actually that clued up on history in the area, beyond the obvious and you certainly couldn’t imagine what ‘tomb raiders’ would want to be doing in a place like that. Confederate gold. It had to be, you’d settled your mind on it.  
  
You decided to wait at least 10 minutes until answering Sam, you couldn’t appear desperate after all. You cleared Sullivan’s desk, and wiped your hand to disperse out the dust. It was looking a little neater now, and hopefully he’d be appreciative.  
  
You’d wasted enough time now, you could answer Sam.  
  
_Nothing exciting yet I’m afraid! Still clearing Sullivan’s room! Hopefully things get a bit more (not too much) exciting for you guys. Bring me back something shiny! LOL_  
  
You weren’t sure if it was too informal, but Sam had been sending you kisses on his texts, and… What was the worst that could happen? Your phone buzzed, almost instantly.  
  
_Sure thing Doll ;-) Sam xx_  
  
You glowed inside as you read the message. Flirty, that’s what it was. There was no mistaking that emoticon at the end. You placed your phone into your pocket again, and sighed heavily. Order of the day was to clear Sullivan’s office, and so that’s exactly what you did.  
  
Once you’d completed your arduous task, and it was well past 5pm, you looked at your phone longingly and decided to send a text back to Sam.  
  
_All done. Still nothing’s ablaze so I reckon we’re all good! Sullivan’s office is unrecognisable, so hopefully he’ll be happy when he gets back!!! :-)_  
  
You sent the message, but still gripped onto your phone tightly, even as you locked the office up.  
  
As you walked down the street to the station you kept staring at the screen intently, willing for Sam to text you back. You didn’t know why, but with every text you got (however innocent or not they may have been intended by him) your heart skipped a beat.  
  
_Will leave it as a surprise to Sully. You’re too good Doll. Thanks for not robbing us blind Sam xxx_  
  
You revelled inside as you read the message and arrived at the station. 3 kisses now on the text message. You boarded your train, and elected to wait just until you got to your flat to message back.  
  
Once home, you threw your bag down into the hallway and plopped down on the sofa, whipping your phone out.  
  
_Not robbed you blind, because there’s nothing worth stealing! Hope Texas isn’t boring you as much now!!_  
  
You idly turned your television on to a documentary and placed your phone on the arm of your sofa. The phone buzzed almost instantly.  
  
_Boarding a plane soon – so see you tomorrow? Might not be so breezy coz we’ve been to a few bars to celebrate… Lunch again? Sam xxx_  
  
You read his message back and forth, not really sure what to make of it, what with him having obviously drunk more than a few beers. You decided to keep it simple.  
  
_Sure thing boss man- but no burrito’s, too messy!_  
  
That was appropriate, sure thing. Not flirty and liable to land you in trouble. Just cheeky enough that he might enjoy it.  
  
Sam answered you back almost instantaneously, as if he’d been hovering over his phone all this time.  
  
_It’s a date. See you 2moro. Sam xxx_  
  
A date. Did he actually mean that, or was that just the beer talking? You weren’t really sure, you just knew that you could be headed for trouble…


	5. Return of the boss

Making your way to work, you felt your heart thud deeply in your chest. A date with Sam. Except it wasn’t a date, was it? Sam appeared to be a notorious flirt, and his particular usage of that word probably didn’t exactly measure what it meant to you. You weren’t really sure what time Sam and Sullivan would appear at the office, and if you admitted it, whilst you were excited there was also a lingering trepidatious feeling in the back of your mind.  
  
You opened the office up, letting light stream through the shutters and looked around at the chaos. Sullivan’s office was completely clear now, and you hadn’t dared to open the other door just yet, you had guessed that to be Sam’s office, with this, the room you stood in that is, to be the main “meeting area” for prospective clients. Not that any clients had actually arrived yet, you guessed Sam and Sullivan may have been waiting for a lackey like you to clear the place before they dared to do that.  
  
You grabbed some folder covers and elastic bands, and nested yourself amidst 2 large stacks of papers that you had decided you’d sort through. It was a job that would keep you busy for a few hours at least.  
  
Roughly 5 hours later you heard the downstairs door to the office open and muffled voices talking. Sam and Sullivan had arrived back from their trip.  
  
“Hey kid, what have you done with the place whilst we’ve been gone? Sam tells me you have a surprise for me… Got to admit, I’m a bit scared kid!” Sullivan chuckled and beamed a warm grin at you as he spoke.  
  
You turned around from the stack of papers and grinned. “Nothing too bad, I hope! I cleaned your office a little, if that’s OK?” your voice trailed off slightly, scared at what his reaction may be once he saw the newly cleared room. Some people could be funny about this sort of thing.  
  
“I better go check the situation then, hadn’t I?” Sullivan turned to walk into the room, and it was only now you noticed Sam lingering in the doorway, his large bulk leaning against the frame. You mentally took his form in, his tight t-shirt showing off his toned physique and the low cut v-neck showing just the right amount of chest hair peeking out at the top.  
  
He waved at you gently, and your heart fluttered.  
  
“Hey, good to see the place isn’t burnt to a crisp. You did good.” He jested, a smirk spreading across his face. You didn’t have time to properly reply to him, Sullivan put an end to that as he swung his door open.  
  
“Guess we’ll need to start paying you more kid if you blitz the whole place like that” Sullivan gestured back towards his office with one hand, the other clasping a journal. Sam just winked at you knowingly from behind Sullivan’s shoulder and you blushed slightly.  
  
“Well I’m not going to say no to a raise…” you replied shrugging your shoulders, pouting and intending to look as adorable and cheeky as you possibly could.  
  
He shook his head and laughed. “It’s a possibility kid, if things keep going as well as the Texas job…”  
  
Ahhh, the Texas job. You still wanted to ask what they’d actually been doing there, but you didn’t really know them well enough to know if it was a possible area of discussion. You just raised your eyebrows instead.  
  
Sam broke the silence as he opened his satchel that was slung low on his shoulder. “Almost forgot. Couldn’t find anything shiny at the airport, so guess this’ll have to do?” he withdrew a small teddy from his bag, and threw it at you. You’d thought it had been a joke of his, and you certainly hadn’t intended for him to actually get you anything.  
  
You looked down at the teddy in your hands. It was a small dog wearing a cowboy hat and boots. It had “TEXAS” emblazoned across its stomach, and an inane grin plastered across its face. You stared down at it, taken aback by its gaudy appearance. When you didn’t give your thanks, Sam laughed and said “That good, right?”  
  
You laughed and replied, “Yeah, its really, erm…” you laughed a little harder now and completed your sentence, “Really fucking terrible.” Sam laughed along with and raised his hands in defence.  
  
“Well, it was the dog or a piñata and I didn’t think I could fit that in my bag, you know?”  
  
You grinned at him, “Well that’d be a smash hit of a present, you know…” His eyes widened and he joined you in laughing at your frankly awful pun.  
  
You looked down at the dog again. “Thanks anyway, he can have pride of place on my desk.”  
  
Sam just nodded at you and then wrinkled his brow at you. “So, we still on for lunch? Or did you eat already?”  
  
You’d thought that he would have forgotten, and it was early afternoon now. Of course you hadn’t eaten, you’d been waiting for this since having received his text the night before. But it was seriously going to happen now. You’d spent the best part of an hour this morning deliberating on what to wear, just on the off chance that it actually was going to go ahead.  
  
You looked towards Sullivan’s office nervously and gestured your head in its direction. “Nah, I didn’t eat yet. Got busy, you know?” You nervously stared at Sullivan’s office, “Are you sure he won’t mind? I mean, after last time… And I can’t piss him off twice in the first week. There’s only so much I can clean…”  
  
Sam held his hand out towards you, “Let me worry about that. C’mon I’m starving. Airplane food registers way below prison food…” he cheekily offered. You made a mental note to ask him about that later, it was the second time you’d heard a reference to his coloured past. You extended your hand towards his and uncrossed your legs.  
  
“Well I guess it can’t hurt…”


	6. Dinner with the boss MK2

Sam had opted for a noodle bar, this particular time. You nestled in a corner booth together, painfully aware that you were sitting dangerously close to him, trying to keep your legs tucked close together so you didn’t brush his knee.  
  
“So…” you began. “Texas? Sullivan seems pleased…”  
  
Sam smirked at you and bowed his head slightly. “We thought there was going to be an issue, but yeah. All’s good, and we’ve got enough to start the next job now.”  
  
You rocked your head forward in approval. “Cool. I guess that means you guys are shooting off again soon, right?” you weakly replied. You realised as the words left your mouth that you had sounded a little petulant, as if referring to yourself as a wanton latchkey kid.  
  
Sam’s eyes searched yours. “Pretty much. But you keep on like you’ve been going so far, and…”  
  
He didn’t finish, you’d been interrupted by a waitress. Again.  
  
You hadn’t even really looked at the menu, but settled for a Pad Thai. Sam ordered his food, and then flipped his menu over, looking at the drinks.  
  
“Beer OK?” he asked quizzically. You nodded hesitantly.  
  
“Yeah, two of the Tiger’s. Thanks.” He said, as he passed both menus to the waitress. He turned his profile towards you. “So yeah, like I was saying. You keep doing what you have been, and I’m pretty sure he’d let you tag along.” He coughed slightly after having said that. “If you wanted too, of course. No pressure.” You felt him shake his knee nervously, and it brushed against your own, just for a brief moment. The touch felt electric.  
  
You turned to face him, mimicking his own stance. “Yeah, that’d be different… Never been away ‘on business’ before.”  
  
His knee stopped shaking quite so hard, and he fiddled with the chopsticks in front of him. You continued, “Where is the next job going to be, exactly?”  
  
He sighed heavily, his breathe got caught slightly in your nose and you could smell the cigarettes that he smoked. You wondered if his tongue would taste like that…  
  
“Never too sure to be honest, got to start with the research first and then we go from there.”  
  
You picked your chopsticks up, and tapped them on the table. “Well, just so happens I’m pretty damn good at researching. Y’know, what with the old legal job and all.” You looked at him defiantly, and raised an eyebrow. He held his hand out to yours as if to shake it, and you gripped his hand firmly.  
  
Sam laughed, “Kid, I had no doubts about that! You’re a smart cookie…” You shrugged the shoulder that was closest to him. “Yeah, I guess I am.”  
  
He shook his head as he smiled, “And real modest too, huh?” He clasped a hand on your shoulder and then patted it gently. “We could use someone like you on the road kid, seriously. I’ll work on Sullivan, he’ll come around to it.”  
You hummed, and he spoke again. “How’s your Italian?”  
  
Taken aback, you thought of the one thing you’d learnt on your travels in your gap year. “Due pinte di birra, per favore il mio amico pagherà”

Sam looked taken aback, his mouth forming a small “o”. You smiled sweetly at him, “Two pints of beer please, my friend will pay...” you offered. So it wasn’t the best line in the book, and you were pretty sure there were a few chat-up lines swimming around inside your head, but having only known Sam for a handful of days, you weren’t brave enough to use one of those just yet. 

His shoulders shook as he laughed, with a slight snort. “Hey, you got lucky these last two times kid, I don’t always pay!” he joked, the wrinkles at the sides of his eyes creasing slightly. They were cute, you pondered. You hadn’t even really ever been attracted to an older man, but for some reason you were warming to his cockiness- you figured that some of it was an act, at least. 

He regarded you again, and his tone lowered, “Any pick up lines I could borrow?” Your heart sank, as you realised they weren’t going to be used on you. But you’d had a nice day, and Sam was funny. He’d appreciate just the one...

“Mi sono perso. Mi diresti dove abiti tu?” You crossed your legs over. “Means: I'm lost. Could you show me where you live?” You flashed your eyes at him, baring the whites of your eyes and waggled your eyebrows. 

The waitress appeared with your food and drinks, and you prayed that she hadn’t just heard you. You turned from Sam instantly, staring at the table in front in sheer embarrassment. Sam thanked her as she totted off with her tray. 

“Pretty sure she heard you come onto me.” He teased, nudging you with his left shoulder. You groaned, “Brilliant. I can’t ever come back here, you know that right?” He laughed at your comment as he stuffed his mouth with noodles. 

Talking with his mouth full (which by now you were actually used to) he said, “Eh, plenty more places to go in this district.” 

You grinned at him and started to eat. “So… Whereabouts in Italy are we headed?” Sam seemed to like that, the suggestion of ‘we’. 

“That’s why we got to research a bit first kid, it’s a pretty damn big place…”

As he talked, the bird tattoos on his neck quivered, and you found yourself staring. You had to hide the obviousness, “Yeah, I guess it is…”

He was smirking, he’d clocked you staring at him. He actually seemed to revel in it, but you’d forced your stare to your noodles, eating them up quickly. 

“Thing is kid, sometimes things on the road can get a little…” he paused as he thought of the right word. “Exciting.” The way he said that word made you stop breathing, just for a second. 

You gulped down a mouthful of noodles. “Exciting?”  
He nodded and talked again with his mouth full, “Yeah… So we find treasures right? And sell those on…” he pointed at you with his chopsticks, “But sometimes? Well kid, you ain’t the only one who’s looking. People get angry about that sort of crap.”  
  
You slurped on some noodles, and covered your mouth slightly when answering him. “Kill you, sort of angry?” You didn’t think you’d be that good on the field, you wondered if they’d let you stay in the hotel?  
  
Sam put his chopsticks and turned his body to face you. “Sometimes, yeah.” He offered simply. “Other times? Just a bit of word slinging, y’know?” You blinked your eyes at him, not really sure how you could answer him. “If you came with, we’d look after you kid. You could always stay behind in the hotel…”  
  
God you were glad he had said that. You picked your beer up to wash down the noodles, “Yeah Sam, I think the hotel would definitely be a good option for me!” you swigged a mouthful of the beer, and placed the bottle back on the table. “I mean, if you lose your cleaner, I doubt you’d find anyone else to clear up the mess at the office!”  
  
Sam laughed at your comment and picked up his own beer, as he gulped it down the birds on his neck twitched again. “Yeah… Never going to get another Y/N, are we?”  
  
Jesus, he actually remembered your name. You were so used to being called “kid” or “doll” that you were almost pretty certain he couldn’t remember what your actual name was.  
  
“Nope, won’t ever find another girl like me!” you joked, hoping it had come across as intended. You felt yourself scrutinised by his gaze.  
  
“Nah, won’t ever find another girl like you, for sure…”


	7. Home alone

Won’t ever find another girl like you.  
  
The words reverberated in your head, and you felt foolish. How could he possibly mean that, when he barely knew you? You sunk a little lower into your bath, the bubbles popping around your chin.  
  
You sighed deeply, closing your eyes. The water was warm and inviting. Your hands slipped to your inner thighs, and you released yourself from the day’s pent up confusions. You thought of Sam, and the birds on his neck. How, if your gaze wondered down his stubble strewn neck, you’d reach his taut chest. Leading on from there, you’d eventually come to the Holy Grail… He’d be delicious naked. His arms were big and strong and you imagined yourself wrapped up in them, licking a trail up his neck to meet those birds. You were close, so close…  
  
BZZZTTT.  
  
The bloody phone, of course it decided to go off when you’d almost made it. The water splashed as you removed your hand and placed it on the side of the tub. Slicking your hair back in anger, you reached around to the cabinet where your phone was currently sitting.  
  
_Hey Doll, hope the evening is treating you well. Almost sold Sullivan on you joining us, but you’re going to have to work hard with the research for him to crack 100%. Sam xxx_  
  
You cringed a little as you read the message. Sullivan obviously didn’t want you to go with them, when it was time for them to go. You weren’t that surprised, so far he’d been introduced to your skills as a cleaner, and nothing more. It was hardly that astonishing that he wouldn’t want a “kid” like you tagging along on a potentially dangerous mission. You decided to message Sam back- after all, you had just been thinking of him.  
  
_Not too bad thanks. Hey- I can be your best cleaner AND your best researcher, right!? :-)_  
  
Your phone made a noise similar to a swoop as you sent the message. You held the phone in your hand and draped it over the side of the tub and awaited a response as you stared up at the light ahead and breathed out heavily, the nerves overcoming you.  
  
_Not bad? That doesn’t sound too good. Any plans for later on? Sam xxx_  
  
This man was going to be the death of you. Sullivan had let you take the next two days off, though he was yet to formalise when your actual leave days would be. As for plans of the night… Well, you didn’t really have any. Your flatmate was working a late shift, so you were alone for the evening. Normally you’d cook together, and watch some television. Occasionally you’d go to a bar and scope out the local talent, but when it was just you there, well there wasn’t really an awful lot to do. You didn’t really know how to answer, you couldn’t exactly answer him with _“Nothing much Sam, just naked in the bath- alone!”_ You needed to think of something casual, something that wasn’t going to scare him off completely, that could be considered ‘natural’.  
  
_Nothing much. Home alone, so TV and PJs time! RocknRoll…_  
  
That was adequate, wasn’t it? You attempted to rethink something slightly less tragic, but you opted for it- what was the worst that could happen? He’d answer, bored of your reply and you could get back to soaking.  
  
BZZZTTTTT.  
  
_That’s a shame Doll –need someone to keep you company? ;-) Sam xxx_  
  
You reeled upon reading the text and sat up in the bath, mobile in hand. You could answer as you honestly wanted to, and risk losing your job, or…  
  
_Haha- funny! LOL Got some TV to catch up now the flatmates gone, that’s all! See you in a couple of days boss!_  
  
You reckoned that was enough to get rid of him, and placed your phone on the cabinet before sinking fully under the water, opening your eyes to look at ceiling night through the water. Breathing out bubbles, you heaved yourself out of the water and the tub. Grabbing a towel, you made your way back to your bedroom and chucked your phone on your bed as you got prepared for a night in alone.  
  
Once you’d dried your hair and changed into some pyjamas, you grabbed your laptop so that you were ready to continue streaming a TV series you’d picked up on at the behest of your flatmate. You snuggled into your duvet and picked your phone up to place on your bedside cabinet. A message was showing.  
  
_OK, I get the message- girls night in? Sam xxx_  
  
You sighed internally upon reading his message. Of course you hadn’t wanted him to go, but you couldn’t look so desperate, and besides- it was your first week at a new job. You had to keep the job, losing it wasn’t an option anymore. Turning your laptop on, you scrolled lazily through the television menu, ready for a new series to watch. But nothing was grabbing your attention. Perhaps it was better to watch an old favourite? Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom- just enough action to keep you titillated, and just enough of Harrison Ford in tight fitting trousers- perfect.  
  
Your phone buzzed again next to the laptop.  
  
_So what exactly is that interesting that you’re not out tonight? Sam xxx_  
  
You smiled at the lit screen, and text back immediately.  
  
_Indiana Jones – and don’t tell me it isn’t the best movie ever._  
  
Cheeky, but then he’d pretty much been asking for that since texting you tonight, right? You’d spent all day with him, and then he was coming back for more. You weren’t stupid, this was just all part of a big game for him.  
  
_Thought you were catching up on TV? And it’s Back to the Future that’s the best. Don’t forget that Doll. Sam xxx_  
  
Hah, that absolute prick actually took the bait of your cheek. And he was completely wrong, obviously. You’d have to let him know that.  
  
_Sorry boss, but you’re wrong on that. I can’t even begin to say how much._  
  
You fluffed up a pillow, and placed your phone there precariously whilst Willie Scott sang in Cantonese, you admired her red sequinned dress and wondered if you’d ever go on an adventure like her, although you reckoned you’d be more of a Karen if push came to shove. Your phone lit up again in response to your last text, and you would have been almost embarrassed at the speed at which you went to grab it, if you hadn’t completely lost your shame days ago.  
  
_You’re going to boss me on movies? I’ve a few years on you sweetheart- I’m going to have to school you. Sam xxx_  
  
You weren’t even sure how to take that- school you in movies, or in other less savoury diversions? You hoped it was for the latter, but you were so past trying to uncover the riddles in these texts. Perhaps it was time to play him at his own game?  
  
_You’re going to school me on movies? Bring it on boss man._  
  
That was as much as you’d let yourself get away with, just for now anyway. You weren’t entirely sure how to go about it- you’d had boyfriends and flings in the past, sure, but an older man? As old as Sam? Completely uncharted territory.  
  
_Well as I’m boss man, I know you’re free tomorrow. You provide the beers cos you owe me, and I’ll provide the schooling. It’s a date. Sam xxx_  
  
Another ‘date’- you’d been expecting it, yes, but not tomorrow. Not even this week. You wondered if you were getting yourself in deep trouble, but you could probably afford to throw caution to the wind on this one, after all, it was only ‘movies’… You shoved your laptop to the bottom of your bed and threw your covers to the side and ran to the kitchen area where you and your flatmate kept a calendar of dates. Scanning over this week, you traced your fingers over the dates. Tomorrow, you had a free flat all again. You secretly praised your flatmate’s hectic schedule and ran back to your room to pick up your phone.  
  
_Wow you really think you’re going to win this war? Free flat again tomorrow, so I’ll get some good movies picked and some terrible beer. We both know your choices are going to be crap boss._  
  
You sighed in content at having worked up the courage to send the message and actually having done it. You weren’t letting go of it just yet- not when you could see the ticker at the bottom of your messaging app flickering as he typed back a reply.  
  
_Hey- I’ll have you know I’m something of an aficionado. See you tomorrow then Doll. You’ll need to give me your ad. Sam xxx_  
  
So that was that then, this was actually happening. You’d need a cute outfit (that wasn’t too try hard), beer, and a selection of movies that proved you weren’t just some ‘kid’. You replied back to him with your address and sighed as you flopped your head back on your pillow, with the wildest of grins appearing across your features as you stared up into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should add a disclaimer that the next chapter is going to contain some smut... Just as a little warning folks!


	8. Movie Night

You awoke early the next morning, with your laptop brazenly shoved at the end of your bed. You checked your phone hastily, to see if Sam had sent you anymore messages whilst you had been asleep. No such luck.  
  
Throwing the covers off you, you sat on the edge of your bed. You actually had something resembling a ‘date’ with Sam, and you were well aware what could happen after a few beers. You both relished and resented that- was this going to fuck up your new job? You hastily pushed that feeling to the side of your mind, and decided to focus on the positives. Sam was coming, and you’d need to make sure the flat was decent, and that the fridge was overflowing. No big deal, right?  
  
After blitzing the bathroom, the living room and your bedroom (a girl can never be too sure, and should always be prepared), you sat on the sofa in your living room with a fresh slick of sweat covering your body. It was now past lunchtime, and you were positive that your flatmate would be snoring contentedly in their bedroom after their evening shift. You prayed to any God that would listen that you hadn’t awoken them, that wouldn’t have exactly been fair, and you weren’t sure you wanted to answer their questions. You hoisted yourself off the sofa, and made for the bathroom. Now that it was sparkling clean, it seemed unfair to have a shower, but you were more worried about what Sam would think of you, you had to be clean at least before he came.  
  
With the hot water dripping over your body, you couldn’t help yourself as your hands made light work of your breasts, trailing down to your groove. You thought again of Sam, of his tight body and of his Bostonian accent sending thrills down your spine as he whispered naughty words into your ear. This time, you weren’t interrupted- and it was frankly bliss. You held your face in the water for a time, before deciding to ‘get ready’ for him, and choose an outfit. You’d been thinking of exactly what outfit to wear all morning whilst you’d been cleaning.  
  
Freshly made up with clean clothes on, you reached for your handbag. Now it was time to buy the aphrodisiac (if it could even be called that), and get to business. It was finally time to purchase snacks and beer.  
  
With your fridge newly stocked with a nice selection of IPA’s and white wine (as well as a variety of nibbles), you sat despondent on your sofa. You heard your flatmate stir in their bedroom, and their door creaked.  
  
“Hey, thought I heard you rumbling around. Cheers for cleaning the flat- I’ve been a shit lately, haven’t I?” she said, as she looked around at the newly cleaned living area in wonder.  
  
You looked up into her golden face, framed by messy brown tendrils of hair that had escaped a bobble. You smiled up at her and shook your head.  
  
“No worries, that’s what friends are for, right?” You turned your head to one side before following up, “How was work?” You were anxious like a caged animal, and it showed. She cocked an eyebrow up at you as she reached for the fridge.  
  
“Is everything OK?” she asked quizzically, setting a pint of milk down on the kitchen counter that separated the living spaces. “You know you can talk to me, right?”  
  
You laughed a laugh of desperation and shook your head with furore. “Nah, everything’s good Han, don’t worry about it. Just, things, you know?”  
  
She nodded with understanding, and left the milk by itself on the counter as she walked over to you, putting an arm around your shoulder. You smelt the stale sweat that emanated from her pores.  
  
“Well don’t get too caught up in anything, yeah? I know I’ve been working really crazy hours lately, but we’ll be back on the town before you know it. Sisters for life, right?”  
  
You trembled as you laughed, and looked up into her eyes warmly. “I know, it’s shit that you’ve been working all hours lately, I miss you…”  
  
She gripped your shoulder tightly, before letting go and returning to the kitchen to grab some cereal and a bowl. “Well if you miss me that much, come on over to the restaurant. Seriously- free breadsticks on the house!”  
  
You both laughed, and she stuffed a mouthful of cereal into her mouth before continuing. “So it’s a guy, yeah? You’re always like this when there’s a new guy on the scene.”  
  
You gulped, and realised afterwards that it was audible. “A man… To be more precise.” You smiled sheepishly at her and she opened both of her eyes widely as she swallowed.  
  
“Finally. A man. I thought you were going to close back in on yourself after Dave.” She teased, waggling her spoon at you.  
  
“Oh, har har, very funny.” You mocked back, throwing a pillow from your sofa at her. “I’ve had other things on my mind, but now I’m all sorted. See?” you replied, as you motioned your hands up and down at your outfit, your makeup and your neatly prepared hair.  
  
She nodded in approval as she looked you up and down. “He better be worth all the effort.” She tipped the remainder of her cereal in the bin and left the bowl in the sink. “I know when I’m a third wheel- I’ll get ready and shoot off to work, and errr… Leave you to it?” she winked at you as she sashayed off out of the living room, and you flumped down on your sofa again, sighing heavily as you did so.  
  
Making yourself busy around the flat was hard to do, when there was only your living room and kitchen to occupy, but you’d somehow managed it for a few more hours. Your phone flashed on the coffee table, and your insides squirmed as you knew exactly who it would be.  
  
_Hey Doll. Nearly there, just in traffic- am I OK to park outside or something? Sam xxx_  
  
He had actually kept to his word and decided to come. You really hoped you’d bought enough alcohol to keep him occupied.  
  
_Hey, anywhere on the street is fine. I’ve got like 5 movies that’ll kick your arse BTW._  
  
You looked at the pile of DVD’s you had assorted. A movie for each genre (that you ostensibly could grab from your collection), you actually thought you’d done pretty well. And you were almost 100% sure that he wouldn’t go for your Romantic option- The Notebook.  
  
_5 movies? Jesus Doll, don’t you sleep? Be there in 5. Sam xxx_  
  
You blushed as you read his text, was sleep the only thing he was thinking of? If what you had discerned of late was true, it definitely wasn’t the only thing on his mind. You swigged another gulp of beer in preparation and awaited the doorbell to ring, but after a few minutes you heard a loud knock instead. Your eyes fluttered as you looked towards your front door, and you mentally steeled yourself. It was time.  
  
You padded to the front door, and looked through the eyehole. Sam stood there, sniffing slightly and shifting his weight from side to side. Could he actually be nervous?  
  
You opened the door to greet Sam, who was stood in your hallway smoothing down his t-shirt.  
  
“Hey kid, ready for a schooling?” he winked at you, shoving his hands into his pockets as he did so. You smirked at him and replied, “Sure thing boss, in you come…”  
  
You extended your arm as you opened the door fully, and Sam sauntered into your flat. You noticed that he had a curious eye as he examined the collections of photos you and your flatmate had pinned to the wall- various escapades of drunkenness that the two of you had shared.  
  
“Oh, so you’re eyeing up the Thailand pictures?” you said, flashing him a devilish grin. “Gap year, we got… Well yeah, I mean you can see from the pictures how bad we got!”.  
  
He chuckled at your comment as he scanned the pictures intently. It was only really then when you noticed that most of them happened to be of the two of you in bikinis, and you cursed your flatmate’s natural golden skin, bright eyes and flowing hair. If you’d been blessed with half of her good looks, you reckoned you might not have found yourself in the position you were in now- redundant from your dream job, and living pay check to pay check. Sam hummed softly as you were lost in your thoughts and spun around abruptly.  
  
“So these movies you chose; any good? Or am I actually going to have to school you?” he smirked as he said it, and you wished to God that you could wipe that smirk off his face.  
  
You barged past him into the living room, and lounged on your sofa. “Movies are over there, one for each genre.” You nodded towards the pile of DVD’s that you had assorted earlier on in the day.  
  
“So horror first? That’s always a good start, right?” you laughed nervously, tugging at your sleeve. Sam smiled at you as he plopped down on one of your sofas. “Horror movies suit me fine babe.”  
  
You gushed inside and tried to hide it from your features. You glanced nervously at the fridge. “So, beer? Or wine…” You made your way over to the fridge and opened it, scanning inside.  
  
“Beer is good with me” Sam replied. You grabbed two beers and took the caps off with the corkscrew, gripping onto both bottles tightly as you made your way over to him slowly, handing him one.  
  
There was silence between you as you handed him the beer. “So, the Exorcist… That’s a classic, right? Even for you?” you joked, hoping he was going to make this easy. You were in luck. He took a swig of his beer and raised both his eyebrows, “Yeah that’s about as classic as you can get babe. Turn the damn thing on!”  
  
You chuckled and walked over to your DVD player, positioning yourself just so, so that your arse stood out as you put the disc into the player. “Right. Here we go…” you muttered, to no one in particular. Mostly directed at the DVD player, if you were honest with yourself.  
  
You walked over to the couch adjacent to Sam, and sat down. He turned his head fully to you and leaned over the side of the settee.  
  
“Sure you won’t get scared?” he teased, cocking an eyebrow.  
  
You laughed in response, and took a swig of your beer. “Nah, I’m a tough girl!” you said, flexing an arm muscle in jest at him.  
  
Sam just laughed at you and in response took in another mouthful of beer. “Sure you won’t need a strong man to keep you safe?” he joked towards you, flexing his own arm muscles at you. You couldn’t but help notice how your mouth went dry at watching him do that.  
  
“OK, movie time!” you announced, turning the DVD on to play and flumping back in your seat.  
  
Sam smirked at you and downed his beer, smacking it down onto your coffee table. “Can I, ughhh, get another?”  
  
You nodded towards your fridge and saw him get up and stride towards it. You heard 2 caps being taken off, and turned around to see that he’d used his teeth. He came towards you and handed you one of the beers. “Cheers” he smirked, as he clinked his bottle with yours.  
  
You smiled at him and replied, “Cheers. To what exactly?” you asked, quizzically raising an eyebrow at him. He sat down and scratched at his chin absent mindedly. “To me winning this little bet we got going on, obviously…”  
  
You laughed out loud and sat up in your seat. “This was a bet? We didn’t even decide on what to win!” You opened your arms out at him in a mock-anger expression. He stopped scratching at his chin. “I can think of a few things, Doll…” he purred, making your stomach tighten immediately.  
  
Where were you going to take this?  
  
“Oh, really?” you offered, immediately downing your beer down your gullet in a vain attempt to take away the tight feeling in your stomach.  
  
Sam didn’t reply. This obviously meant he didn’t mean what you’d thought he had. Shame. In a vain attempt at saving what was left of your pride, you decided to play it cool.  
  
“Well it doesn’t matter Boss man, because I’m going to win whatever bet have. You’d better believe it” you pointed your finger at him, and realised that the movie had actually been running for a few minutes without you having paid the slightest bit of attention. “I literally have no idea what’s happened…”  
  
Sam sniggered. “It’s a horror movie, you don’t need to know what’s going on.”  
  
You sneered at him to mock him. “I like knowing!” putting your beer down on the coffee table. These were going down a lot faster than you had anticipated. You looked at Sam and motioned towards the empty bottles with your head. “Another?” He emptied his beer down his throat and made a moan to signify that he wanted another.  
  
You walked towards the kitchen area, and heard a rustle as Sam also got up. He reached down for his boots, and started to unzip them. “You don’t mind, right?” You laughed as you headed towards the kitchenette. “As long as they don’t stink my flat out, it’s fine!”  
  
He threw his boots across the room, aiming for your hallway. “If they’re out there, you won’t smell a thing babe.” He winked at you as you uncapped the bottles.  
  
You shook your head as you handed the bottle to him.  
  
“So, you going to sit back on your own now?” he asked, as he gestured to the spare seat next to him. You tried to hide the vivid blush that you were sure had crept on your cheeks in response to his forwardness. You weren’t sure you could answer coherently. “Erm, OK?”  
  
Sam stood up to meet you.  
  
“Come on babe, we both know what’s going on here.”  
He brought a hand up to your cheek and stroked it gently. “No need to play the game anymore, right?”  
  
His hands were calloused and rough on your soft skin, and his thumb was idly retracing the same line as he stroked your face gently. He bent his head down towards yours, and you felt his slightly chapped lips brush against your own. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening, not so fast. You still both held a beer in your hand. Sam, upon noticing this took your beer from you and placed both of them on the coffee table.  
  
He turned around again, and this time placed both of his hands on either side of your face before he bent his head down again to kiss you, this time more erratically. You moaned into his mouth as he pressed his pelvis into you and that was all the invitation he needed to snake his tongue to meet your own.  
  
He pulled away from you suddenly, panting as he did so and shaking his jacket off. Fuck it, it was time to be brave, you’d been thinking about this for the past week.  
  
You copied his move and took off your top and then grabbed for his face, you wanted to taste him again. Sam moaned into your mouth and bit your lip gently, tugging on it gently. You worked your kisses across his left cheek once he had let go of it, and nuzzled into his neck, placing sloppy kisses leading up to his ear, which you nibbled on, making him moan a little louder this time, as his hands had found their way to your breasts, which he kneaded. “Take this to the bedroom?” he moaned, his voice sounding slightly strangled as he did so.  
  
“Uh-huh.” You nodded, breathlessly. Sam picked you up effortlessly, and you wrapped your legs around him. As you brushed up against him, you could feel his arousal and GOD, it made you wet. He carried you through to the hallway and stopped. “Errr, which room?” You giggled at him. “Left.” He kicked the door open, and threw you down on the bed. You lay there and watched him, as he hastily removed his t-shirt and started to undo his belt.  
  
You pounced upright, with lidded eyes, and headed for his jeans. You undid the button at the top, and kissed slightly above it marveling at the trail of hair that peeked seductively above. You undid the zipper slowly and concentrated fully on the bulge that was slowly showing itself to you, kissing his erection all the way down as you lowered the zip.  
  
Tugging his jeans down, you made sure his briefs fell down with them. He was the largest you’d ever seen. So large in fact, it couldn’t even stand up fully. You took the head into your mouth and flicked your tongue down the slit, earning you a moan as he pawed feverishly at your hair. That was all the encouragement you’d need. You bobbed your head down and up a few times, prepping the back of your throat in order to take him fully.  
  
You decided to take your moment, and hummed as you dipped your head down all the way to meet his base, flicking your tongue seductively as you did so. He moaned gargled extremities at you as he thrust his hips gently, rocking back and forth on his heels.  
  
“Babe, this is going to end soon if you don’t stop that…” he breathlessly spoke, breaking the noise of your slurps as you devoured him. You brought your head up and smacked your lips, making a ‘pop’ noise as he flopped out of your mouth. You sat upright and looked him in his eyes, lowering your bra straps as you pouted your lips slightly.  
  
Sam took you in his arms, and wrapped them around your waist as he hungrily kissed you, the desire controlling him now. His hands moved to your breasts, as he kneaded them again and he lowered the cups of your bra so that you were exposed to him. He pinched your nipples, which were hard by now and you gasped into the long kiss the two of you were having.  
  
One of his hands moved slowly down your abdomen, to meet the top of your jeans. He skilfully popped the button open, and undid your zip as he crooked his fingers down the front of your already soaked panties.  
  
“Oh baby, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he groaned into your neck as he felt the wetness that coated your slit. He pumped two fingers in and out of you, his thumb circling your clit. It was all becoming too much, and you felt your thighs tighten as you met your first orgasm.  
  
“F-fuck…” you kissed into his neck. Sam had had enough by now of this teasing. It seemed that perhaps you weren’t the only one who’d been thinking of doing this the past week.  
  
“Still going to call me boss man?” he chuckled, as his fingers slowed down their pumping after having felt your tightness.  
  
You laughed and cringed into his neck.  
  
“I mean it’d be pretty hot, just saying…”  
  
You pouted again at him, your hair covering one eye slightly. It was your turn to purr now. “OK then, boss man”  
  
He pushed you down on the bed with force, and ripped your last remaining clothes, and you stared up at the ceiling, unable to believe that this was really happening. You heard him fumble as he took off his own clothes, and you then felt the bed lurch as his weight climbed on top you. His cock brushed against your thigh and you felt the tip tease against your slit as he pressed a little weight on your tummy, his arms encasing you as he brought you into another deep and fevered kiss.  
  
“Ahhhh, boss man- I can’t take this anymore” you grumbled, breaking off your kiss. He shot an eyebrow up at you, and you felt him slam into you, taking your breath away.  
  
He was so thick, and you were loving every inch of him inside you. He ground into you slowly at first as he peppered kisses down your neck, and then he sped up. He sucked down hard on your collarbone as he sped up, and you were getting wetter with every thrust. All that could be heard was the smacking of your bodies against each other and various moans, and you were so glad that your flatmate wasn’t in the vicinity right now, because you were pretty sure that your neighbours could you.  
  
You felt your walls clench slightly, and the build-up had begun. Sam must have felt it too because he moved a hand so that his thumb could circle your clit.  
  
It was too much, and you felt your walls shudder as you came hard. “Oh fuck, I’m coming” you screamed, Sam moaning loudly in reply, “I’m not too far behind you babygirl, come for your boss!”  
  
His words sent you over the edge, and you felt his hot seed filling you as he gasped on top of you. Once he’d come, you felt him soften slightly inside of you before rolling over to join you on his back, on the bed.  
  
“Fuck babygirl, that was really something. Shit.” He smoothed his hair down and put his hands behind his head.  
  
You sniggered and turned your head to look at him. “So… There’s still that bet we’ve got going on…”  
  
Sam’s lip up-turned and he sat up, leaning on arm as he stroked your side with his free hand.  
  
“Game on, babygirl”


	9. The morning after

You awoke the next morning in tangled sheets, with a familiar pair of arms encasing you. It was pure heaven. You hadn’t ever thought that Sam would be a cuddler, but you weren’t about to complain. You sighed in contemplation as you thought about the night before, the sex, and the witticisms and banter that had followed whilst you watched your chosen films. Sam had conceded- you’d made some good choices. And God, did he pay back his part of the bet. You’d never before had a man do things to you with his tongue that Sam had. He savoured every lick and suck on your womanhood, and revelled in your devilishly loud moans as he pushed you closer to the edge.  
  
You sighed again, louder this time as you rolled over onto your back.  
  
“Reliving the session babygirl?” you heard Sam grumble seductively, his eyes still closed. You rolled over again, this time onto your side so that you could take all of him in. The sheets weren’t quite covering him, and you were so damned pleased. His body was taut and scattered with hairs- he was all man. You noted the three circular scars on his abdomen- you noted them carefully, one day you’d ask how he came to receive them.  
  
“Maybe?” you replied, as you scattered a fingertip over his stomach, trailing it up the hair that led up to his chest, circling his nipples.  
  
“Mmmm, if I get aftercare like this, you’re definitely going to have to join us on our adventure…” Sam mewled.  
  
You giggled at his statement and threw an arm over his stomach. “We only got through 3 of those movies…” you replied, as your free hand continued it’s dance on his chest.  
  
He groaned in frustration. “Isn’t your flatmate back now?”  
  
You sighed heavily. “Not yet. But yeah, she will be. Maybe another time for round two?” you asked hopefully.  
  
“If round two is anything last night, babygirl you have yourself a date. Guess I’ll be seeing you soon?” Sam winked at you, and abruptly got up. He put on his scattered clothing, with you sat still naked in your sheets. He looked over at you after he’d put his t-shirt on, and his look softened. He crawled onto your bed, and kissed you softly on your forehead.  
  
“See you later, babygirl.”  
  
He left your room in a shot, and you heard him clatter in your living room and hallway before he left, leaving you despondent. You weren’t sure if there was to be a round two, and you weren’t sure how the future between you both would fold out. Especially with him still being your boss.  
  
You flumped into your pillows, and smelt his lingering scent of aftershave and cigarettes. It was devine, as you smelt it you felt yourself taken by sleep.  
  
It all seemed so sudden to now be the morning you were due back in work. Sam hadn’t text you at all since your activities the other night, and you were sullen to have to go back now.  
  
You looked towards the coffee shop where you’d gotten a coffee a few times, and decided to head there, there was a small queue. As you contemplated your order, you heard a raised voice, “Mocha with skinny milk?” You jerked your head towards the source of noise. “Uhhh, yeah… How’d you know?” you asked sheepishly. A man with stylish slicked hair laughed back an answer at you from behind the till, “Well you always order the same!” You smiled at him shyly and nodded your head. “Sure, the usual, please!” Grimacing inwardly as you spoke the words, were you really that predictable?  
  
You hurried yourself to the office, preparing yourself for another day of monotony. You were scared as you wrestled with the doors, had Sam shared your time together with Sullivan?  
  
You pushed your thoughts aside and opened the door, coffee in hand. There didn’t appear to be anyone else in yet, thank god.  
  
You decided to open a folder that lay on a large oak desk stuffed into the corner of the room.  
  
“Rome – Diadem of Cleopatra”, written in hastily scribed curvature.  
  
You couldn’t really remember that much of Cleopatra, save her numerous famous affairs and Elizabeth Taylor, naturally.  
  
You opened the folder, and flicked through the papers. A Scottish man by the name of Alasdair Trevelyan had commissioned the business to source the relic, which seemingly had a tenuous link with the famous Egyptian monarch. You could see contrasting post-its haphazardly placed throughout the folder and on top of photographs. Sully and Sam appeared to be in dire straits about the mission, with Sam appearing convinced that the diadem now rested in Rome, following a movement of treasure dating back to World War II.  
  
You carried the folder over to the dated computer that lay dusty and forgotten underneath a myriad of papers, and decided that it was time to transfer your legal research skills to something a little more fantastical.  
  
2 hours went by, and you’d managed to source a variety of articles to show to both Sully and Sam – you were pretty impressed with the information you’d managed to find. It appeared your research skills were a lot more nuanced than your superiors, and you hoped that Sully would be impressed.  
  
You didn’t have to wait long, you heard the door clank open and a groan as you heard Sully shuffle upstairs. You had memorised Sam’s footprint, and Sully didn’t have the catlike swagger that Sam possessed.  
  
He raised his eyebrows when he saw you at the computer, expecting you to have carried on with your cleaning regime.  
  
“Expanding your skillset kid?” he chuckled, as he pointed at you sat there at the computer, glasses on the ridge of your nose.  
  
You looked up at him from the folder, which was resting precariously on the keyboard. You shut the folder immediately.  
  
“Sorry boss, Sam told me about your job in Rome, and I guess I got a little bit carried away…”  
  
Sully raised an eyebrow and quirked his lips. “That boy can’t keep his mouth shut, huh?”  
  
He sighed as he tugged his jacket off and held it. “So, you going to show me your findings, or do I have to use my navy voice on ya?”  
  
You smiled warmly at him, and got up from your seat to hand him a few papers you’d printed off about the troupe that had been currying favours and treasures so many years ago. You’d managed to pin it down to 3 areas nearby Rome that seemed the likeliest places to horde treasure, and where the troupe had been nearby.  
  
Sully read the papers intently, and then looked at you with serious focus.  
  
“You got all this, this morning?”  
  
You gulped a little and nodded.  
  
“I’m impressed kid. Not gonna lie. This is decent stuff- you did good.”  
  
You looked down at the floor, and allowed yourself to grin inanely. “Thanks boss.”  
  
“I gotta make a call about this – you good to stay put?” You nodded eagerly at him.  
  
Sully nodded and headed into his office. Perhaps this meant a ticket to Rome? You could only hope so. You sat back at the computer, and heard Sully talking in his office. You presumed he was talking to the client concerned. You got back into your research, hoping to impress Sully more.  
  
An hour or so passed, and you heard your phone vibrate in your bag. It was probably time for a rest break now anyway, so you decided to check if your flatmate was organising plans for the night.  
  
_Hey Doll – heard from Vic that you decided to do a little research. Naughty girl. Worked a charm. You’re coming with. Sam xxx_  
  
You felt your heart thump in your chest harshly and couldn’t help the small squeal that escaped your lips.  
  
You were going to Rome.


	10. Benvenuto in Italia

You had finally landed in Leonardo Da Vinci airport, and you were so glad. You were sure you looked like shit after the long haul flight, and you were grumpy after a lack of sleep brought on by Sullivan’s snoring which lasted pretty much the entire flight. He looked as bright as a daisy, and it made you internally groan at your own state- you scowled and furrowed your brow at the thought.  
  
Sam nudged into your side with his elbow.  
  
“You normally this grumpy?”  
  
You scowled at him and stifled a yawn as best you could. “Tired” It was all you could manage, and you could feel the heat of anger rising inside of you.  
  
Sam chuckled and looked off into the distance wistfully. “Plenty of rest once we get out of the taxi, Doll.”  
  
Your scowl expanded as you looked at the carousel with everyone else’s luggage circulating, but not your own.  
  
“I’ll get the bags. Take a seat.” He gestured with his head towards a row of plastic seating against a wall, and you decided to take him up on his offer. You weren’t in the mood for jostling with fellow passengers, and Sullivan had explained that you were to meet your client first thing, so you should probably rest as best you could for the time being.  
  
You tried to hold the yawns in, but felt your head drop.  
  
“I need to carry you to the taxi?” You awoke suddenly, and saw Sam standing over you smirking, bags littered around his feet. You waved your hand nonchantly and replied, “Nah, I’m fine. Honest. Best catnap ever.”  
  
He nudged you with his knee to get you moving towards the exit of the airport, and you leant down to grab your bag, only to find he nudged that out of the way as well.  
  
“Man’s job. Go see to Victor, his Italian is awful. He’ll need all the help he can get… Even if yours ain’t much better.” He winked at you.  
  
You trudged your feet towards the sliding doors, you felt heavy and sluggish. You needed sleep right away- the men had both had their fill on the flight over. Walking out of the airport, you felt a light breeze hit your face instantly, and you stood there for a minute taking in the smell of the outside. It was dingy and the smell of rain hung in the air. Opening your eyes, you saw Sullivan waiting by a taxi, leaning against it whilst he smoked a cigar. Always with the cigars.  
  
Sam had been right behind you, and strode past you effortlessly, dropping the bags onto the floor from his shoulders.  
  
“So- taxi sorted I take it?” Sam huffed, as he took a minute to get his breath back.  
  
Sullivan rolled his eyes as he opened the door. “Ladies first”.  
  
Hopping inside the taxi, your nose wasn’t given any extra relief. It appeared the taxi driver also liked to smoke, and his little hanging plastic tree did nothing to mask that smell, merely adding to the pungent aromas that already swilled around inside. You found yourself bunched up against the window of the taxi, as a bag was shoved next to you.  
  
“Sorry about that Doll, ran out of space…” Sam winked at you as he lunged into the taxi after the bag.  
  
You grunted and closed your eyes, letting out a huge sigh. You were past capacity now.  
  
“Hey kid, have a breather. We’ll wake you up when we get to the hotel”, you heard Sully and then nothing more as your eyes fluttered into a deep sleep.  
  
“…and so then the guy just came out of NOWHERE. Nathan has no ammo, I have no ammo… I mean shit man, we’re in a tight spot, yeah..? Oh hey, look who's waking up. You OK?” Sam’s laughter as he had been telling his story had awoken you, and as groggy as you were feeling, the sound had actually been quite nice to hear.  
  
You grunted softly, “Fine. Tired.”  
  
Sam shook his head as he smiled at you. “Really not a morning person, huh? Never got that impression...”  
  
His comment alone made you wake up, your eyes flaring open and your breath hitching in your throat. You prayed that Sully hadn’t taken notice of the comment. You glared at Sam, over the bulky bag that currently separated you both. He wasn’t looking at you, he was staring straight ahead, deadlocked on the road in front, a sultry smirk uplifting the left corner of his mouth.  
  
You coughed a little, to break the silence. “How long until we get there?” causing Sam to groan. “Didn’t realise we were taking a kid along for the trip…”  
  
You shot him another look, this time your furrowed brow and slanting eyes showing him he’d upset you. He craned his neck a little and replied, “Hey, relax… It’s just a joke. You seriously are the worst at mornings, you know that?”  
  
Sullivan chuckled in the front seat, “Kid, we’re about 10 minutes away. Samuel over there asked the same thing like twenty minutes ago…”  
  
You looked over to Sam, who still wasn’t daring to look in your direction and squinted your eyes at him, darting your tongue out to mock him. He still wasn’t looking at you, but you saw him smile and drop his shoulders, relieving himself of the built up tension.  
  
You rested your head on the window and looked out at the countryside. An endless expanse of vegetation broken up by small hand placed walls. It was beautiful. You suspected the client had rented out a villa in the countryside, and you really wished there would be a vineyard. What sort of self-respecting rich guy DOESN’T have a vineyard?  
  
It didn’t take long for you to reach the villa- sadly no attached vineyard, but a small farm with a variety of animals which you made a mental note to go and see when you had some downtime.  
  
You got out of the car, and waited with Sam by the bags. Sam withdrew a packet of cigarettes and lit up whilst you waited.  
  
“Sullivan’s gone to see the client then?”  
  
Sam merely nodded and exhaled a cloud of smoke, not answering you.  
  
“And they’re coming to get us, right?”  
  
Sam inhaled this time, nodding.  
  
“Well this isn’t at all awkward.”  
  
Sam’s laugh got caught in his throat as he inhaled, and he spluttered. “Someone got their sense of humour back finally…” You smiled at him shyly. “Sorry for being a shit, I really hate not having enough sleep.” You felt like a complete child admitting that, but Sam placed a hand on your shoulder. “It’s fine- you should see old Victor after an all-nighter if you think you’re that bad.”  
  
Speaking of the devil, Victor came outside followed by a tall wiry man with piercing blue eyes, a head of salt and pepper hair and a long aquiline nose which strangely suited his sharp features.  
  
“Alasdair Trevelyan, I take it you’ll also be working for me?” his cut-glass British accent wasn’t at all what you’d expected. You’d been imagining an accent that would have made Billy Connolly proud.  
  
You extended your hand to meet his, “Y/N”. Alasdair’s hand shake lingered as his eyes studied you intently. Sam took a step forward and shoved you out of the way slightly, “Samuel Drake. Partner of the firm.” You could hear the tension in his voice as he gritted his teeth. Severe pronunciation of his name and position emphasised the operation’s logistics.  
  
Alasdair nodded his head arrogantly and gazed back towards to you.  
  
“So Y/N, what is it you do exactly?”  
  
You didn’t expect for the client to be interested in you, you were the assistant. The bloody admin assistant.  
  
“Research. Cups of coffee. Photocopying… That sort of thing?” God, you sounded so lame. If there was a way to make a bad impression at the outset of a mission, then that was certainly it.  
  
Alasdair smiled with one corner of his lip upturning, his eyes unblinking and he turned on his heels to face Victor. “So modest. I understand she was the one find the potential dig sites?” Sully nodded at him and gave you a wink from over Alasdair’s shoulder.  
  
“Ex-legal girl, so you know this one’s telling the truth.”  
  
Alasdair laughed, and it was a laugh that would come straight from Mr. Darcy, if the man were ever introduced to humour. So proper, not a real belly laugh, but the sort of laugh you’d do because you felt the social pressure to do so.  
  
“Well, I’ve asked the cook to lay on a meal and some of the best wine from this very region whilst we discuss the matter. Would you kindly follow?”  
  
You waited for Sully to join Alasdair, and looked up uncertainly at Sam. His eyes were narrowed, and you could see he had focused all his energy on Alasdair.  
  
“Bags?” you said weakly, beginning to pick one up.  
  
“Man’s job.” You felt Sam’s hand brush yours as he took control of the bags.  
  
You followed Alasdair and Victor through to the front hall of the house, the hallway was grand and the floor was covered in what you suspected were handmade terracotta tiles with a simplistic swirl pattern on each one. Various relics were artfully placed, with a suit of armour standing proud in one corner. Wow, the rich really did live a completely different life. You stood there, mouth agape as you took all of it in. Sam dumped the bags in the middle of the hall, ruining the effect.  
  
“This guy must be loaded…” you didn’t even look at Sam when you said it, you were too busy studying a painting of nudes placed above a table with neatly stacked papers.  
  
Sam grunted. “They all are.”  
You followed the sound of talking, Sullivan had made himself at home on an old pristine sofa, swirling a glass of whiskey as he conversed with Alasdair whose intense eyes were fixated on a folder that Sullivan had carried in his hand luggage.  
  
“These appear to be very reputable sites for us to begin our search. I’ll have my team located by the morning. I will arrange for you to be located at the different sites- I presume you will remain satisfied even when split up?” Sullivan nodded slowly, “Sam and I can take a site each, but it’s Y/N’s first ‘expedition’ so to speak, so probably best for her to tag along with one of us?”  
  
Alasdair’s gaze turned to you as you stood awkwardly behind Sullivan. “My PA actually recruited some local university students, perhaps you would care to join me at Site 1?”  
  
You didn’t really know how to respond- was this a jibe or an actual effort of inclusion? You were a lot younger than others, sure, but this really just felt like you were being seconded into a safe crèche, lest you hurt yourself. And it really fucking hurt.  
  
“That would be lovely, Mr. Trevelyan.”  
  
You spoke somewhat curtly, but it was the best effort you could make considering the massive lack of sleep.  
  
Sam caught your gaze and offered a sympathetic smile as he crossed the room to settle into the sofa across from Sullivan.  
  
“Once she’s up to speed with the history, we’ll be needing her back for the research.” You hated that he spoke without even looking at you, as if you weren’t there but you knew inside this was his ‘business’ persona coming out and you were actually pretty relieved that he wouldn’t just leave you out on your own. You'd have blushed, if you had the energy left to do so.  
  
Alasdair switched his gaze from Sam to yourself and smiled briefly, almost predatory. “But of course, Mr. Drake.”  
  
No further diatribe on the matter was needed, as a servant from the kitchens came into the lounge area to announce that dinner was to be served shortly.  
  
Sullivan dominated the talk, along with Alasdair, leaving you and Sam alone for the majority of the meal. You’d been separated diagonally across a large dining table laden with silverware, so there wasn’t much chance to talk. Not that you really wanted to talk, you were nearing exhaustion and it was starting to show. You yawned and Sullivan chuckled.  
  
“Poor kid was kept up by my apparent snoring on the way over here… P’raps you should go get some rest kid?” he offered. You nodded glumly.  
  
“I’ll have Maria show you to your quarters and bring your bags up shortly.” Alasdair replied, clicking his fingers as if the poor woman were a prize pet.  
  
Excusing yourself from the table, you dragged your feet as you followed her up a grand staircase to your plush room, with a beautiful handcrafted four poster bed. You didn’t even wait for your baggage, as you fell on top of the soft covers, and found yourself drifting off into the deepest of slumbers.


	11. The adventure finally begins...

You awoke to a loud thump.  
  
Your eyes opened automatically, frantically searching all over the room, and settling on a large figure that loomed over you.  
  
Sam.  
  
“This how you greet a girl?” you mumbled incoherently, rubbing your eyes as you attempted to focus.  
  
Your bags were strewn by his feet in complete disarray. Sam ran his fingers through his hair absentmindedly and chuckled. “You OK babygirl?”  
  
You licked your chapped lips and looked straight up at him defiantly, “Never. Better.”  
  
“Still grumpy then…” he winked at you devilishly as he rested his hands on his belt buckle. “Shift up” he followed, motioning his head to move your body up the bed.  
  
You felt his large bulk rest next to you on the bed where you were laying. A silence fell between you.  
  
“Excited to meet the students then?”  
  
You grimaced, and it showed.  
  
“Excited isn’t the word…” you groaned.  
  
“So that’s why you’re like this, right?” he cocked an eyebrow up at you and glanced up and down your body, smirking as his gaze shifted over your breasts. Sitting up, you interrupted his gaze. “Maybe?”  
  
“Not a people person. Got it.” He replied, flashing you a grin. You pouted and stared straight up at the ceiling. “Apparently not”, sighing heavily.  
  
Sam turned onto his side, propping himself up with one arm. “You’ll be fine Doll. Humour the client, then we’ll get you back…” Your bleary eyes looked into his own, and you snorted. “ _Humour the client?_ You’re making it sound like I’ve got to take my top off!”  
  
Sam’s mouth formed a perfect ‘o’. “Well, not for him…” he brushed his spare hand down your stomach and you shifted a little at his warm touch.  
  
“Hey- I’m a classy lady.” You patted his hand away playfully and he retreated his hand to rest on the bed. In turn, you also turned onto your side and crashed your lips upon his. Sam’s kiss became feverish and strong, and he rolled you onto your back as he placed sloppy kisses down your neckline.  
  
You giggled girlishly at his forwardness, and he took it as a sign as he began to unbutton your jeans and slid them down as he kissed your legs.  
  
“Don’t want to disappoint the lady…” he murmured inbetween kisses down your thighs.  
  
You sighed loudly at the blissfulness of it all, his stubbled cheeks grazing you as he made his way down.  
  
“This’ll be a better dinner than what I had downstairs.” He teased as he poked his tongue into your hole. You gasped at the sudden entrance, not expecting him to enter you so soon. You felt his smirk on your lips as he withdrew his tongue and lapped you up and down. It was too much.  
  
You groaned blissfully into your sheets, and grabbed at his head as he worked his way up, down and sideways. He took that as another signal to introduce his fingers to the game and you sighed at the feeling of his fingers playing at your entrance.  
  
He removed his mouth from your hole, his fingers keeping a frantic pace.  
  
“Too much babygirl? Should I give you it all?” He asked, with his chest heaving above your own, glancing your swollen nipples.  
  
“YES” you moaned loudly, your chest heaving with the satisfaction of his ministrations.  
  
It was Sam’s turn to moan now as he gripped his erection, slowly guiding it to enter your slit. He thrusted slowly at first, before throwing his head back in ecstasy and pumping himself to the hilt inside of you. “  
  
He moaned and swore as he spoke your name, going full hilt.  
  
“Y/N, babygirl… You’re so fucking tight…” you smiled at his comment and bucked your hips as you felt a small wave come over you. Your walls tightened and you heard him swear again as he closed his eyes and grabbed at the covers behind your head.  
  
You groaned as he swivelled his hips into you, and grinded into him as a natural reaction. You felt full as his large dick entered you, and you weren’t sure you wanted this ‘full’ feeling to ever end.  
  
His pace became faster and faster as he neared his end, and his frantic thrusts brought a new sound to your ear as he burrowed his head into your neck. It was so erotic, and you came instantly, Sam coming shortly after.  
  
He panted onto your chest as he came down from his high.  
  
“Babygirl, you are amazing” each word punctuated by a loud inhale and exhale of breath.  
  
Stroking his hair absentmindedly, you chuckled to yourself.  
  
“Yeah I’ve heard that a thousand times…”  
  
Sam kissed at your breasts with rabid desire. “Well what’s a guy to say? You are.” He couldn’t keep his lips and tongue off your nipples, and even though you’d come off a large orgasm, you felt your core warming up again despite your tiredness which had just commenced, once again.  
  
“Sam, I’m tired.” You playfully pushed him away, but you weren’t sure you wanted him to go.  
  
“I know babygirl. You’ve been a trooper. Same time tomorrow?” he stopped kissing your breasts and you missed the immediate loss of contact.  
  
You watched his naked form ready itself as he got himself up to put his clothes on.  
  
“Don’t miss me too much tomorrow Doll, I’m only a text away…” he said as he pulled his jeans on to his taut form.  
  
You nestled into your sheets as you half-dreamt of the night’s activities. Samuel Drake was going to be the death of you.  
  
The full beams of sunlight entering the room that morning caused you to wake up. You sighed as you threw the covers off you to get yourself ready. Calm and collected, you made your way down the stairs to the kitchen area to grab yourself some breakfast. Sam and Sullivan were nowhere to be seen. An array of continental breakfast stuffs lay before you. Marvelling at the variety, you grabbed a croissant, some fresh fruit and a yoghurt.  
  
As you devoured your chosen breakfast, you heard the thus of heavy steps. Sam and Sullivan had woken up.  
  
They both just smiled at you as they piled their plates high with pancakes, fruit and other sundries. "Sleep well?" Sam shot a cheeky wink towards you, and you tried your hardest not to choke on a mouthful of croissant as he did so.  
  
“Looking forward to your little history lesson with the class today?” he teased.  
  
You grimaced at him. It had been a few years since you’d been at university, and you weren’t looking forward to being a dunce and laughing stock, surrounded by people who were at least 7 years your junior. Law and politics? You had that nailed down. History? Other than the odd documentary, you really weren’t anything special.  
  
“Yeah totally looking forward, Boss Man…” you replied through gritted teeth. Sam smirked as he plopped a strawberry in his mouth and winked at you.  
  
The maid from the night before, Maria, hurried herself into the room- this poor put upon woman didn’t seem to ever stop. “Signori Trevelyan says to be ready in the next 15 minutes and outside. A car will be picking you up.” You nodded and smiled at her, and wolfed down the remainders of breakfast.  
  
“So, guess we’ll be seeing you later on then kid?” Sullivan finally piped up as he swilled what appeared to be orange juice (although you suspected there might also be vodka in there).  
  
You nodded as you chewed and made a grunt noise to affirm. “Mmffff”.  
  
Sullivan chuckled and sipped on his drink. “See what you can learn, and if you want my advice? Don’t be afraid to… Wander. Just act dumb if they find you.” You swallowed and shot him a look. “Right. Wandering. Got it.”  
  
Sam didn’t regard you as he continued to eat. You’d send him a text later to see how him and Sullivan were getting on in relation to their own digsites. As you got up, you threw your backpack on and Sam finally piped up, “Have a nice day, kid.” You shot him a playful glare and rolled your eyes. Seemed he’d finally picked up how annoying you actually found that.  
  
Go figure.


	12. Time for a history lesson

A black estate car with tinted windows waited for you outside the estate. You raised your eyebrows as you judged the sheer decadence of your designated transport. There was absolutely no reason why you’d need this, you’d have made done with a simple taxi and it was simply just a show of Mr. Trevelyan’s sheer wealth, probably designed to make you fell ill at ease. Making your way over to the car, you sighed. You weren’t looking forward to today, having to make small talk with people who would no doubt believe they were superior to you. Obviously you were somewhat used to that having worked in a law firm, but it wasn’t something you’d ever enjoyed. You trudged over to the car, and opened up the back door of the estate.  
  
“Hi… I’m Y/N. You’re taking me to the dig site?” you enquired to the driver. He grunted, without looking in your general direction. Charming. You plopped down on a seat, fastening your seat belt.  
  
The car accelerated and headed further into the Italian countryside, and you rested your head against the glass as you took it all in. The view was breath taking, with scatterings of lazily planted vineyards and old houses- some barely kept together by their mortar but beautiful all the same in a rustic manner.  
  
After half an hour or so, you’d arrived at your destination. Opening the door of your car, you could see several people hunched over a makeshift table strewn with documents and papers- straight out of an Indiana Jones film.  
  
“You must be Y/N, right?” a man with greying temples and stubble made his way over to you, his accent clipped as if he was trying just a little too hard. “Alasdair told us you’d be coming.”  
  
You nodded and extended your hand. “Yeah, that’s me. Here for a bitesize history lesson!” The man eyed you, somewhat unsure. “Glenn Taylor. One of the experts Mr. Trevelyan brought on board.” He gazed over at the makeshift table you’d noticed earlier and grimaced slightly. “Suppose it’s time to start with your makeshift history lesson then as ordained by Mr. Trevelyan?” his words punctuated by his fingers making mock apostrophes. You followed him, with feet trailing reluctantly. Glenn turned around once he’d made his way to the table and eyed you up and down. “How much do you know about Cleopatra?”  
  
A startled look crossed your face, like a rabbit caught in headlights. “Elizabeth Taylor?” you answered dubiously. He laughed, and it was obvious that there was a disdain to it. “Right, Elizabeth Taylor. Have you got anything else, or just smart-arse comments for the rest of the day?”  
  
This guy was serious. And also an arsehole.  
  
“Queen of the Nile, too many affairs to count… Rolling in a carpet, and death by snakes.”  
  
Glenn’s look didn’t change. “So just a few movies make up your knowledge so far. Well today is going to be fun, isn’t it?” From the tone of his voice, you just knew that ‘fun’ wasn’t going to be a way to describe the day. You tried not to sigh, perhaps not all that convincingly. Glenn snorted, obviously not even bothering to hide his disdain for you. What was it Sullivan said earlier? Wander and act dumb. Well, you were pretty sure you had it down to a tee to act dumb, and everyone here (or at least Glenn) would believe that was the truth. You were going to ruin this arsehole’s day you’d made sure of that, and make Sullivan and Sam proud of you.  
  
Glenn was sorting through a pile of papers. “Thesis on the removal of certain artefacts circa 1944- the one we’re looking for included. Presumably you do know how to read?” You looked at him plainly and averted your gaze to the document he held in his hands. “Sure, I can read. Believe it or not…” he nodded and threw it across the table at you. “Well make yourself busy then. I’ll be over there” he jerked his head towards a canvas tent, “And try not to get the papers out of order.”  
  
Glaring at him, you glanced down at the many-paged and dog eared thesis that Glenn had thrown to you. Opening your backpack, you thrust it inside. Now that Glenn was far removed, it was time to wander and pocket the goodies.  
  
You made your way past the table and peeked to see who was about. A few men dressed in casual khakis and loosely fitting shirts, which meant they wouldn’t pose too much of a threat hopefully. You looked back at the table with all the documents, and noticed a few photographs of the dig-site with annotations scribbled hastily on the backs. So far, the dig had been a dud it seemed. You grabbed your phone, and took as many photographs as possible, which is when you noticed one particular photo, of an old Norse pot. This seemed very far removed from its original home and that didn’t sit right. What was it doing all the way out here? At least Cleopatra’s diadem could have been removed by a Roman soldier, right? Something here didn’t connect, you just weren’t sure what. There were various other photographs, all of different pots and caskets of which you couldn’t make out an obvious origin. Was this all stuff from an old museum that the soldiers had ransacked? It would have been an odd assortment for a museum, usually they at least had a general theme to work with when items were categorised.  
  
You peeked again to scan the camp. The men had gone, and you had a somewhat free reign to wander. It was probably time to take a gander at what else you could photograph. Grabbing your backpack, you walked as confidently and nonchalantly as you could. This was going to be a breeze- you had this. Breaths somewhat heavy as you passed the tents, you came to a small ditch and peered down into it. Cardboard clips with numbers scribbled on them were jutting out of the freshly dug earth and there didn’t appear to be anything more there. In the horizon, you made out some metal crates- presumably the findings were packed away safely there. Your next move was to walk towards them as you traversed the trenches. A large logo was emblazoned on the sides of the crates of an aeroplane formed by the words ‘TE GLOBAL’. Grabbing your mobile, you took another photograph and hastily sent it to Sam, with no further explanation for him. You figured he could come to his own conclusions. You peeked inside the top crate, and saw bundled up items which were wrapped in heavy duty popping wrapper. There also appeared to be mounds of sellotaped items, of which you had no clue what they could be. Hearing laughter, you panicked and ducked behind the crates.  
  
“Where’s Y/N? Can somebody find her please?” Fuck that was Glenn speaking. It was time for phase two- ‘act dumb’.  
  
You heard heavy footsteps make their way over to you. What sort of excuse were you going to come up with hidden behind some bloody metal crates? Crap, this was going to have to be deserving of an Academy Award to get you out of any shit with the client. Glaring at the floor in panic, you saw some brown boots in the corner of your vision.  
  
“Sorry- couldn’t find any toilets…” you weakly giggled and got up. The man eyed you suspiciously and spoke out in a harsh Scottish accent, “Cludgie’s down’tway. Mind ‘yer step.” He motioned his head towards where the main tent was, which is where Glenn had been previously. “Thanks” you replied, flashing him a lopsided smile that you hoped made you look as stupid as your excuse had been. Shooting him a look as you replied, you noted his broad body, one of a man who worked out a lot and took no shit. He was dressed in a tight fitting t-shirt, and combat trousers that were tucked into his shoes. A knife peeked out from a strap on his thigh, a strap that also held a gun. You hastily retreated and almost jogged back to the tents. Glenn was waiting for you.  
  
“And where have you been exactly? Have you even read the thesis!?” he put his hand to his forehead and rubbed it vigorously. “I said you’d be a liability from the beginning! We can’t have children running around the dig site!” his temper flared, and his nostrils widened as he almost snorted at you. Standing your ground, you tersely replied, “I couldn’t find a toilet.” This time Glenn snorted, without saying a word as he pointed towards the tent. You nodded and headed off there, opening the door to a port-a-loo and sitting down on the closed lid of the toilet. Sam had messaged you.  
  
_Hey- so your photos are lovely Doll, but why exactly are you sending me this? Sam xxx_  
  
You sent him the remaining photos that you’d taken and replied underneath. _Something’s just a bit off here. Why would a freight company be interested in this stuff? Shouldn’t it be in a museum???_  
  
You drummed your fingers on your phone as you saw Sam typing his message back. He wasn’t here, it was just hard to explain the ‘vibe’ you were currently feeling.  
  
_TE Global is the client’s company – really not that shady Doll. Hope your history lesson is going well. Sam xxx_  
  
He just didn’t get it.  
  
_Pretty sure I ran into a merc with a gun earlier- try telling me THAT’S not shady._  
  
You sighed as you flushed the toilet to validate your time spent there, and thrust your phone back into your backpack.  
  
_We can go over it all later- just stay safe babygirl. Sam xxx_  
  
Turning the sink back on, your thoughts wandered. So the client, was a rich son of a bitch with a global freight company. That explained how he could afford to hire numerous services. He was probably illegally selling the goods via the black market, however most of the photographs you’d seen were of empty trenches, and Sullivan  & Drake’s had been employed to find the diadem, which you presumed was thought to be the most priceless of the artefacts available for finding. Did that explain the importance placed on the item? Probably. But it felt odd that just the one artefact seemed worth finding, presumably the soldiers who’d moved the treasure had moved it with other items that were also invaluable? You breathed out heavily as you opened the door of the port-a-loo, ready to face whatever barrage you were due to face from Glenn.  
  
He was waiting outside for you, a sneer on his ugly features, his crooked nose lifted up at one side where the sneer was most evident.  
  
“You took your time. Back to the table, and try to at least stay there this time”  
  
You raised your eyebrows and sullenly made your way back, throwing your backpack on the floor. You hadn’t found a fig, or at least not one that Sam seemed to find interesting at any rate. But why would the client bring mercenaries like the Scottish guy you had come across earlier? If it was a simple dig, with permits, there wouldn’t be a need for mercenaries. A hollow feeling filled your stomach, and you sighed as you picked up some papers to make a start on reading.  
  
Sam was right, adventuring could turn downright dangerous. But at least you were on the safe side, right?


	13. Back at the villa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to split the last chapter into two because I thought it might be too long, so I hope you don't mind the very recent update!

As you slumped back into your chauffeured car with a fistful of papers, you tried to look inconspicuous, innocent. Later on in the day, a whole band of mercenaries had arrived via jeep, and that had only added to the feeling of unease that had filled you earlier on in the day. You couldn’t put your finger on it just yet, but this all added up to something terrible- you were sure of that much. The graduate students had never arrived, the only expert there had seemed to be Glenn, although you weren’t exactly sure of his credentials. After your earlier meander, he’d regarded you with steely suspicious eyes as he spoke to the mercenaries and then later on concentrated on his work within the tent, whatever work that was.  
  
You grabbed your phone from the front pocket of your backpack, a message from Sam awaited answering.  
  
_Everything OK babygirl? Sam xxx_  
  
You sighed as you answered him, your fingers lazily pressing on the touch pad.  
  
_Yep, everything’s OK. As OK as it can be._  
  
You really weren’t in the mood to engage with him as the car made its way back to the villa, light hearted conversation was past you. You opened the gallery of photographs you’d taken throughout the day. Norse pot. Unknown pot. Another unknown pot. Why so many pots? The trenches, with numbers that had appeared to be empty, and the crates. Those bloody crates. Why would Mr. Trevelyan export goods without getting them properly certificated? Surely that would make the goods more valuable? And a smuggling operation of item that hadn’t been through due process just didn’t seem to sit right- sure an appraisal by a historian would be worth something, but proper certification from an institute would surely make the goods much more viable to sell at a higher profit? He probably didn’t need the money you reasoned, after all he’d sent the most ostentatious estate car ever to chauffeur you about your business. Business you reasoned, that kept you somewhat out of the way. Away from both Sam and Sullivan. Why was that? You threw your phone back into your backpack as your stomach growled ferociously. You really ought to have packed a granola bar.  
  
As the car pulled into the graveled entrance, you grabbed your bag to sling over a shoulder. Another car was already parked at the side, and you guessed that meant both Sullivan and Sam had already arrived. They’d probably already eaten, the bastards. You grumbled as you hurled yourself out of the backseat, placing your feet on the gravel and slumped back to the grand villa’s entrance.  
  
You could hear laughter from the dining room. Making your way in, it seemed the men were already on their second course.  
  
“Everything OK kid?” Sullivan said amidst chews, his fork spraying droplets of gravy onto the table.  
  
You pulled your face into a slight grimace but replied, “Yeah. Fine. Just been a long day.” Sam regarded with you a quizzical gaze, his right eyebrow raising slightly. “I really need something to eat…” you hastily added, noticing his face. Sullivan grumbled in response as he swallowed another mouthful and jerked his head in the direction of the open doorway. “Plenty of food out there kid, might have to think about going for a run after all this…” You smiled plainly by way of politesse and dropped your backpack by a chair, heading for the kitchen.  
  
As you spooned potatoes, chicken and vegetables onto your plate your mind wandered yet again. What exactly was Trevelyan’s deal? Why was the diadem so important, against all of the other treasure that had been moved back in the Great War? Why separate you all? You were a business, he hadn’t actually utilised you at all at the dig site, and the promised graduates had never shown up. Did they even exist? None of this was right, none of it fit. There had to be an agenda, mercenaries didn’t get hired to protect dig sites in the Italian countryside.  
  
“Sure you’re OK?”  
  
Sam’s gruff voice interrupted your thought process and you turned around slowly, still holding your plate. “Fine” you shrugged indifferently. His amber eyes squinted slightly as he took you in. “Don’t seem fine, Doll”. Your stomach grumbled and you puffed out a large exhale as you turned around to spoon some gravy onto your plate. “Grumpy when tired and hungry, right?” Sam offered, when you didn’t reply. You didn’t look at him, but just bobbed your head slowly. “I hear there’s a guy on the site who’s a right asshole…” This time you turned to look at him with a pained expression, “You have no idea”. He sniggered and looked at your plate. “Comfort eating ain’t always the cure, you know” he winked boldly, finally breaking down your wall, causing you to laugh, “Yeah, but I haven’t eaten all day and he really was an arsehole…” Sam moved to the side to allow you to enter the dining room, where Sullivan nursed a scotch.  
  
Plopping down on your chair next to your backpack, you hungrily forced the food into your mouth. You were far past chewing properly by this point. Sullivan noticed, and his scotch swirled as he spoke, “Jesus, you ever eaten kid?” you mumbled a confirmation as you swore at him with your free hand in jest, as he feigned surprise. “Really need to teach you some manners, lady”, he replied, causing Sam to scoff. You grinned as you swallowed, “Better men have tried!” and he smirked as he took in another a sip of the scotch. The men talked about their day, their dig site had contained no mercenaries and seemed to be completely empty of anything, Sullivan remarking, “Seen more life in a graveyard…” which made you chuckle. You relayed your day to them, Sullivan sitting forward in his seat when you described the Scottish mercenary who’d almost caught you snooping. He shook his head and laughed when you told him of your idiotic attempt at not getting caught, Sam giving you an extremely sarcastic “Attagirl” with a wink as you spoke. Sullivan retired to his quarters once you’d finished your story, both men didn’t appear to find anything that odd about mercenaries being involved in the excavation, apparently they were more common on the job than not.  
  
Taking your dish and cutlery to the kitchen you placed them in the sink, Maria had interrupted you earlier to advise she would be washing the dishes and cleaning the room so you didn’t have anything else left to do. Your mind needed time to reflect again, see if you could work this all out, whether or not it was all just in your head. Neither Sam nor Sullivan saw a problem, so why did you? You walked out onto the veranda and regarded the night time scenery against the flickering lamps of the villa’s grounds.  
  
“You still ain’t sure about this, are ya?” Sam said as he lit up a cigarette perched between his lips, behind you. You shook your head, “Mercenaries in Africa, India… Fuck even in South America. But Italy? I mean what’s so bad out here?”, your arms wide open. Sam exhaled and replied amidst the smoke, “Off the top of my head? Mafia. Pretty fucking bad guys.” You closed your eyes and nodded once. “Right, mafia. Forgot about that one.” you answered, deadpan. He inhaled again, and you took out your phone to flick through the pictures again. Sam looked over your shoulder, “So a fuck load of pottery then? Lucky gal.” You looked at him and rolled your eyes, “A fuck load of pottery indeed”. He held his cigarette to one side as he brushed his arm past yours to flick through the pictures himself. “So they were off-loading from site? Huh. This Glenn guy, he say where he was from?” You shook your head. “Arsehole Avenue is all I got”, causing him to smile warmly at you. “That right around the bend from Arseholeville?” he answered. You laughed and pouted your lips slightly, “Only a bus ride away from Arseholetopia”. He inhaled again and spoke as he exhaled, “You should go tomorrow. See what you can get on him. If he’s college educated then no dice, but you got a hunch, right?” You nodded, you did indeed have a hunch. “Women’s intuition” you said, placing your phone in your back pocket. “That ain’t a proper thing, Doll.”  
  
Sam stubbed out his cigarette and threw it over the veranda. “Litterbug” you alleged, and he smirked wildly at you. “Not the worst crime I’ve committed”. You looked off to the side, “I’m not sure I even want to know”, before reverting your eyes back to his, beaming. A puff of smoke formed as he lit another cigarette, “You really don’t, trust me.” You sat on the balcony edge of the veranda, “That’s why you’re a chain smoker, right?” He inhaled expertly, his mouth then forming a perfect circle as he puffed out small smoke rings. “Heh, cute.” You scrunched your face a little, “Pretty cool trick though…” triggering him to shrug his shoulders. “Eh, had a lot of practice.” He leaned on the balcony next to where you were sat. “So, adventure life. Just what you thought, right?”. Your eyes widened, “Thought there’d be marginally less guns…” He smiled sadly and looked you directly in the eyes. “You don’t have to go tomorrow. Not if you don’t want to.” Serious Sam wasn’t something you were used to, you were agog. “I mean it Doll. Just say the word, and we can have you shipped off back home.” You stuttered as you spoke, “NO. I want this. Really. I can’t leave now- I think I’m onto something. Operation Arsehole, right!?” He continued to look you in the eye, studying you, before averting his gaze in defeat. “Sure. Operation Arsehole is all systems go.” He weakly proffered with a smile. You harrumphed triumphantly, whilst Sam continued to smoke. Looking at him, you could see the worry in his stance, “I should go get some rest… Today was pretty tiring.” He assented to your comment, and pulled out yet another cigarette after having flicked the one he’d been drawing one into a bush, “Yeah, you go get some beauty sleep”, causing you to hold your chest in fake disgust, “Are you implying that I’m in need of beauty sleep, Mr. Drake!? For shame.” He shook his head as he laughed, “Go. We can catch up tomorrow babygirl”. You scoffed gently and gave him a mock salute as you turned back to head to your bedroom.  
  
Operation Arsehole had the go ahead. You’d have a snoop, see how many conversations you could listen in on. Everyone on camp thought you were an idiot, so you were pretty sure you could charm your way out of any potential mishaps. All you needed was a bit more information, then you could Google ‘Glenn Taylor’ and get the juicy stuff, if it even existed. Why couldn’t he have an uncommon name? If he’d had a name that wasn’t bloody ‘Taylor’ you could have searched him online this instant, and then there’d be no need for another awful day at that godforsaken camp.  
  
You sat at the end of your bed and looked around your room. Wash, sleep, Operation Arsehole. Tomorrow was going to be a big day.


	14. Operation Arsehole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which I might actually need a beta... Hopefully it's not too jarring without one! :-)

You’d arrived at the camp, with your game face plastered on. It was time for ‘Operation Arsehole’ to commence.  
  
Glenn had placed you at the table you’d been at the day before. It was still littered with the papers you’d made a start on, and though he hadn’t said a word to you, you realised he expected you to leaf through them further. You’d already read through a few papers containing a brief explanation of the soldiers involved with the movement of goods, although it wasn’t detailed enough to contain names or exact dates and times which seemed off, given the importance placed on the location of the diadem. You thought Trevelyan would have sourced papers that were more precise given the grave importance placed on the item.  
  
Time went by, and bands of mercenaries were still patrolling the camp, some eyeing you up idly in what you guessed was bemusement. You stuck out like a sore thumb, the only girl in the entire camp. Yet again, the promised graduate students hadn’t showed up, and it was 11am.  
  
You hurriedly text Sam underneath the makeshift table.  
  
_More mercs here. Nothing to tell you yet except that tho. Sorry. None of the students have turned up, AGAIN. Suspish?_  
  
Nothing else to report, you felt ridiculous. You had tried to sell Sam on some ridiculous conspiracy that was happening right beneath his gaze, and you’d so far utterly failed to convince him of the trouble you were all headed for. You just needed to make it to the crates- you were steadfast sure that the answer lied within. The only problem was, of course, that the mercenaries had decided to plant themselves right near the crates today. You assumed that was due to your miscreant behaviour the day before. If only you’d played it cooler.  
  
Looking up from the documents that Glenn had given you earlier, you scanned the horizon. More mercs in khaki pants, with big guns to boot. Great. Your phone buzzed excitedly in your pocket, and you could barely contain your excitement as you fumbled with your pockets.  
  
_Listen babygirl, play it cool. Sully’s said we’re due there this afternoon – no shit before then, period. Sam xxx_  
  
You huffed slightly as you read the message, did Sam not trust you to do a good enough job at snooping? Sure, the debacle yesterday was embarrassing, but this was something you could handle. Your mind flickered over the few nights you’d spent with Sam, and you frowned slightly with your forehead creasing as you wondered whether that was hazing your vision in respect of this particular contrivance. Before your tenure at the archaeological firm, you’d always been such a level headed girl. Why had that suddenly changed? Had Samuel Drake done this to you, or had you done this to yourself? And why, oh God why, did your stomach feel like such a pit of despair when everyone around you felt that this was a completely normal and contrived set of events? Well, you only had to wait a few more hours to meet Sam and Sullivan, and then hopefully they could see for themselves.  
  
You only had a few more hours to wait hopefully. You could do this. You could sit and read, like a good girl.  
  
“Oi, Daveo. Cargo has to be lined up in stacks of two mate!” a mercenary shouted out, with a broad London accent. You grimaced as his shouts rolled through your body.  
  
“Fuck off mate, these are bleedin’ ‘eavy” a man presumably named Dave replied back.  
  
You rolled your eyes and got back to reading. So far, the texts hadn’t been promising and you weren’t expecting anything further. That is, until you came across the biography of a particular soldier named Salvo Montegrande. He’d been a fresh eyed 19 year old, brought into war by the sheer fact that no one else was left to recruit, and supposedly the jingoism that had emanated in fascist era Italy. A faded out picture showed a man, no a boy, with greased back hair and bright shining eyes. Poor sod. He’d been completely normal, until the diadem of Cleopatra had been recovered and stowed away on the train cart that he was instructed to guard. That very night, his actions and words had been described as ‘strange’, with no further descriptive. They found him the next morning with blood pouring out of both nostrils and caked around his mouth. It could have been a severe stroke? Or a drug habit. But the post mortem attached to the essay wasn’t conclusive, merely describing a severe epilepsy attack which had brought on a severe stroke. You froze as you read the account, gripping the paper tightly between your fingers, your eyes unmoving from the last sentence written- “DEATH INCONCLUSIVE”.  
  
Unnerving, to say the least. A random inconclusive death tied to the diadem wasn’t on the cards. But it could be a coincidence, right? You shuddered as you firmly slapped the papers down on the table, your eyes focusing on the far distance and trying desperately not to read the rest of the documents in front of you. It was bloody hard, that much was true. The mercs in your near sight jostled each other jokingly, just men on a job. Glenn was nowhere to be seen. You inwardly wondered how long it would take Sullivan and Sam to arrive, perhaps you could do a bit of investigation without them? You realised however, that was futile. You wouldn’t get anywhere without them. Without their help, you were… Well, helpless. You fumbled with the papers you had dropped, and resigned yourself to reading them- at least for the short term.  
  
It seemed however, your aghast state of just shortly before was resigned only to poor Signori Salvo Montegrande. No other soldiers had perished, and there was nothing else of consequence hidden in the papers. Nothing that could confirm the pit of dread that currently replaced your stomach. You fumbled at your phone again, typing into the pad furiously.  
  
_Mercs all about. Please hurry up… Not sure I’m comfortable with all of this!_  
  
It summed up the situation perfectly, however desperately it came across. Your phone buzzed instantly.  
  
_On our way babe. Don’t worry. Sam xxx_  
  
You sighed out in contentment. You wouldn’t be alone for much longer, and that made you beam. Hopefully, not too much outwardly. Sam and Sullivan would be here soon, and then you wouldn’t have anything to worry about. Everything would be OK. Well, mostly OK. As OK as it could be with Sullivan and Sam. You tapped your foot nervously on the floor, awaiting the inevitable and hoping that your head didn’t turn anxiously as you awaited them both. Time to turn back to the journals. The awful, boring journals…  
  
The hours passed, and you weren’t anymore enthused by the journals. A black jeep pulled up, and you tried your hardest not to look up at it as it heaved its way across the gravel. Sam and Sullivan had come to the rescue. Your rescue, specifically. The door opened heavily, and you tried not to blush as you saw Sam’s dirt concealed boots swing out to the side to escape the vehicle. So you had a crush on the guy, so what? He was ruggedly handsome, and capable to boot. Victor followed not long after, with a thud as he landed. You saw him brush off his knees as he did so, as If the landing of only a foot or so hurt his body as he plodded ungracefully on the sandy floor. Scanning the distance, you saw that the mercenaries had also noticed the new arrivals, and had acquainted themselves with their guns as they did so. Jesus, you hoped they’d both be alright. You hadn’t wanted a firefight just to confirm your stupid hunch.  
  
Sam looked over to you, and winked mischievously as he placed his hands inside his pockets. Glenn emerged from his tent with rapid speed, his beaked nose sneering as he did so.  
  
“Mr. Sullivan, and Mr. Drake… We weren’t expecting you…”  
  
Sam and Sullivan both directed their sights over to him with a degree of rumination hidden in their furrowed brows. Well, at least Sam would know now how much of an arsehole Glenn was.  
  
“Yeah, we had no luck with the other dig sites… Thought we’d drop by and see our how prodigy was doing?” Sam answered, his gaze lingering on you. Glenn looked over at you awkwardly, his feet shuffling aimlessly in the sandy drift. “She’s fine. I’ve asked her to check over the journals we’d found…” Glenn looked at you nervously as he spoke. You stared him out, hoping to make him more nervous. It didn’t work however, by the time you’d locked onto his gaze, he’d found his composure. “Mr. Trevelyan has recently been concerned about the activity of the local mafia, and as such… Has hired a few bodyguards to survey the site. She’s perfectly safe. Safer perhaps, than all of the other girls currently residing in Italy…”  
  
You looked at Sam as he surveyed the site, his gaze lingering on the crates you’d mentioned earlier and the mercenaries that now surrounded them. “Well then, I guess you won’t mind if we actually do our job now, right?” Glenn looked at him with his eyes wide, clearly unsure of what to say next. “Of course Mr. Drake… Mr Sullivan, we’re an open book here.”  
  
Sullivan scoffed as he pulled out a cigarette, which was odd as you’d only ever seen him smoke cigars before. “Don’t you worry... We’ll have a good look around, and I’m sure we can put Mr. Trevelyan on the right trail…” Sullivan winked at Glenn after having spoken, exhaling a cloud of smoke.  
  
Sam sauntered over to you, and your heart fluttered as his hips swayed towards you. It probably wasn’t meant seductively, but the way he purposefully strode towards you filled your mind with wonderment.  
  
“You been OK Doll?” he asked, as he picked up a few scattered papers that lay before you. You noticed that he didn’t bother reading them. “I’m fine Mr… Sam. Everything’s peachy.” He smirked as he caught you almost misname him. “Fancy a stroll?” he countered cheekily. You nodded eagerly, wishing to escape the awfully hot outside tent you had been resigned to. Sullivan stayed behind, examing the tent Glenn had left with eager eyes.  
  
Sam waited until you were out of earshot to talk to you again. “Everything OK babe?” You nodded eagerly, as you uncertainly looked around for signs of life that might be listening in on what you were saying. “Fine. I mean… As fine as it can be when mercs are all around.” Sam chuckled at your comment, and extended an arm to put around your shoulder. “Hey babygirl, everything’s fine as long as I’m around, kahpeeshi?” You raised an eyebrow at him in defiance at his butchering of the Italian language and the oddness of the word. “It’s Italian, OK?” he replied, laughing. “Hey, I learnt a FEW things on the plane ride over here… Not that you’d believe me” You laughed at his Bostonian completely butchering the Italian lingo, but smiled at his attempt at genuine Italian. Maybe he’d learnt a thing or two since your date?  
  
“The cargo boxes are over there” you nudged Sam with you shoulder in the direction of the boxes. “I don’t know how we’re going to get those guys away from… But there’s something dodgy about this, you get that right?” you looked at Sam earnestly, and his hard gaze which was directed at the crates crossed over to you, and softened immediately. “Something dodgy, definitely Doll.” Sam’s fingers fiddled in his pockets. “Well you know what we need right?” you looked at him plainly. “A distraction?” You rolled your eyes immediately. Sam’s gaze softened further, “Come on Doll, you’re the one with the hunch, yeah?”.  
  
You were the one with the hunch indeed. God damn your bloody hunch.


	15. Hunch Time

You and Sam were stood by a canvas tent, huddled close together with his hands moving emphatically as he spoke of his distraction plan. He was to be the distraction, and you? Well you were the foil, naturally. Sam had argued expertly that it was your baby hunch, after all.  
  
“Sam, that’s not going to work. There’s like eight guys by those crates…” you worriedly flashed your eyes in the direction of the mercenaries and breathed out deeply, with your nostrils slightly flaring. Sam grabbed you by the shoulders and looked down at you with his brow furrowed. “It’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. Just trust me, I got a knack for this for this sort of crap.” Your eyes felt like they’d had their fill of rolling lately, but you couldn’t help but sneak another one out just for old times’ sake.  
  
Sam had decided that the best defence, was a good offence. You’d wanted to argue with him, but he had a crazed look in his eyes as he’d described his plan to you with his sweaty palms running through his hair in excitement as his words spat small flecks of spit when he got deep into his plan. He’d noticed a small crate of dynamite outside a tent as you’d walked towards the crates, and he’d apparently decided immediately on noticing them that the mercenaries would respond to a detonation in one of the far off trenches rather than to any other diversion technique. “They ain’t gonna care where **I** take a leak, Doll” was his only reply and you bristled at the mentioning of your own lame diversionary tactics the day before. He strolled off after your conversation, and you were left there to your own devices. God, you hoped this work. None of you could afford for it to not work.  
  
After a few vacant minutes, you heard the mother of all explosions just past the encampment. The mercenaries responded immediately to the noise as you clutched the sides of your head, your ears ringing furiously. They ran towards the explosion, and you hoped that Sam would be OK. You knew he’d be fine, this was the life he loved so much- the danger and the glory. And he seemed really fucking good at it all. All you had to do was make your way to the crates. You stumbled slightly as you made your way there, the mercenaries engrossed in the chasm caused by the explosion and no longer bothered by guarding whatever was in the crates. Creaking the lid slightly open, you grabbed a small wrapped up package and withdrew your phone to take pictures. There didn’t appear to be anything but pots, again. You made sure to take one of the smaller ones and stuffed it into your backpack, making sure it was hidden slightly by the sweetie wrappers and other useless paraphernalia that littered the insides of your bag. Closing the lid again, you turned your head briefly to check that you were in the clear – thankfully, the mercenaries were now scouting the outside perimeter of the camp which meant you were free to escape to the front of the camp. You jogged as you ran in-between the tents, aware that you wouldn’t look too suspicious given the explosion.  
  
“Our own fucking explosives? You left the fucking explosives out in the fucking open!?” you heard a crash from inside a tent, and you knew that meant Glenn was in a foul mood. You couldn’t blame him really, he probably presumed sabotage from the local mafia, or a kid with too much time on their hands. Still, if he thought the militia entourage was incompetent… Well, that just made life easier for you, Sullivan and Sam. Plus, he was an arsehole. It’d be a bit too much to feel sorry for the guy.  
  
“Well, that went well.” You heard Sam’s gruff voice from behind you and you turned around panting to flash him a quick smile. “As well as can be expected…” you replied, shrugging safely. Sam eyed the tent where Glenn was currently throwing the contents around. “Think we should go see how Sullivan is coping?” he extended a hand towards the canvas tent, his thumb pointing out. You half smiled at him, and nodded. “Got to make sure the old man’s safe…”  
  
Sullivan was sat in the tent, with a signature cigar perched on his lips. Given Glenn’s superior temper, to his credit he didn’t seem that fazed. He’d probably dealt with dozens of arseholes like Glenn before, you reasoned. Lion temper, pussy cat balls. “It’s probably just an idiot kid…” he reasoned, “Heck, I threw a grenade at a boathouse aged ten. Goddamn place lit up like a bonfire. Those were the days kids could be kids…” he reminisced, with a nostalgic smile covering the half of his mouth not currently holding a cigar firmly in place. Glenn shot a furious look towards him, “Do you think this is a fucking game? What the actual fuck would a kid be doing with dynamite!?” Sullivan withdrew his cigar and blew smoke out in Glenn’s general direction, causing him to splutter. “Kids will be kids. Heck, you never wanted in on action like that as a kid?” Glenn grumbled with a strangled noise emanating from the back of his throat. “I read as a fucking kid. I did not blow up fucking craters on fucking historical sites!”  
  
Sam chuckled from the entrance of the tent. “Well that explains a fucking lot.” He darkly replied, aware that the comment wasn’t directed at him. Glenn didn’t appear to have the muster to answer, he grunted and stormed to a vacant chair to sit on. Once sat, he placed his head in hands. “I’ll call Mr. Trevelyan, explain this fucking mess…” he began, before wiping the sweat off his top lip and directing his glare directly at you. “And get that fucking idiot out of here. I don’t want to explain how the girl got her fucking legs blown off. That’s a fucking phone call I don’t need to be making.” Sam’s body immediately tensed, his pectorals twitching slightly at the sudden change of stance. “Woah now. She ain’t done a fucking thing. Apologise.” Glenn ignored him, and began to dial Mr. Trevelyan. Laying a hand on Sam’s forearm you spoke, “It’s fine. We’re not exactly friends.” You offered him a smile, the corner of your mouth twitching as you forced it. “Seriously, I’m the idiot, he’s the arsehole. I don’t want his fucking apology.” Sam’s stance lessened in relaxation as he eyed you suspiciously, evidently not convinced of your hurried explanation but not wanting to push it. You spoke out of the side of your mouth in a whisper, “We don’t need to make him anymore angry- _capisci_?”  
  
Sam’s pectorals relaxed completely as a soft look came across his features and he looked down at you. “Shall we go wait for this damn taxi ride then?” Sullivan stood immediately, “Best goddamn thing I’ve heard all day.” He snuffed his cigar out in a glass bowl, and smoothed down the crinkles of his shirt. “I’m not waiting for him to explode again, fucking boring conversation maker…” he muttered under his breath.  
  
As all three of you waited for the taxi, you were completely silent until Sullivan spoke up. “I’m not a goddamn idiot. I know you two were involved.” Sam feigned horror before his eyes became steely as he looked off into the horizon. “She had a hunch”, was his only reply. You stared down at your feet, like a child being told off. Sullivan noticed first, “Something interesting down there, kid?” he chuckled as he rubbed his chin. You shook your head vigorously- unsure of how to respond. “Got to say I'm pretty impressed. Didn’t think you’d have it in you when we first met. I like this new Y/N.” You nodded your head once, and then patted your backpack.  
  
“I think I like the new me too”.


	16. It's a map, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's all finally beginning to heat up! I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I'm so sorry that I'm massively into writing this. If you want me to space updates out a bit more, please let me know!!!

The journey back to the villa was silent, with the driver in the car it was clear that neither Sam nor Sullivan wished to discuss matters with you further regarding the contents of the crate. You had yet to tell them what you’d managed to pilfer, or even to sneak a peek for your own interests. You just really hoped you weren’t carrying fucking explosives, after seeing the damage just a few sticks of dynamite could manage. Hearing the crunch of gravel under the wheels of the car you sat up slightly to look out of the window. All of the downstairs lights were on at the villa, and you hoped that was just for the staff’s purposes – if Trevelyan caught you three discussing matters without him, would he be pissed? Presumably so, given that this was a man who’d hired mercenaries to guard what seemed like innocuous and worthless pots. If they could even be described as such, that is.  
  
Stretching your legs as you got out of the vehicle, you slung your backpack onto your shoulder and mooched over to the front door of the villa, letting yourself in with Sam and Sullivan following shortly afterwards. As you went to walk upstairs to your bedroom Sam grabbed your wrist, “Food first. Then talk.” You nodded in an absent minded fashion and followed them into lounge, with its decadent parquet flooring underfoot. As you flopped down on a sofa, Sullivan headed straight for the drinks cabinet, “I don’t know about you two, but a scotch is definitely on the cards for me”. He cracked open a bottle, and poured three glasses and you noiselessly noted that the one that was intended for you had a third less amount of liquid than the other two. You smiled up at him as he passed you your glass, “Thanks Sullivan. I definitely need this…” You downed the dark liquid in one and crashed the now empty glass onto the coffee table in front of you. Sullivan raised his eyebrows, impressed. “We are definitely going to need more than one bottle. Shit.”  
  
Topping your glass up this time was Sam, “Crap doll, slow down. We don’t need you passing out.” You smiled darkly and this time chose to sip the drink, flashing an exaggerated smile at both of them. “Apologies. Didn’t realise you were both lightweights.” It was Sullivan’s turn to roll his eyes now, but he chortled slightly before sipping on his drink. “Nothing to do with that kid, but you know how much that costs? More than your goddamn rent.” Sam got up from his chair and walked in the direction of the kitchen, “I’ll get some food sorted, because no one else appears to be bothered…” He walked out of the room, leaving you and Sullivan alone in cold silence.  
  
“Don’t think I don’t know kid.”  
  
You looked over at him, alarmed. “Know what exactly?” He set his glass down on the table gently and looked over at you with a face that could only be described as pure fatherly concern. “Sam’s a livewire. That’s what makes him so damn irresistible. He latches on to people quickly like a goddamn kid, but commitment… Well, right now? It isn’t in his interests. You know that, right?” You froze, your lips parted as you processed his words before answering. “It isn’t like that. I mean…” What else was there to say? You thought he’d be mad, you having fucked the boss and all, but this was what? Advice of some sort? Sullivan closed his eyes as he nodded slowly before transfixing his gaze solidly at you, “I get you kid. I really do. Heck, I was just like him at his age... Probably still am.” He faltered as he realised he couldn’t continue speaking in a way to give you any sliver of hope. ”Just don’t go getting ideas, that’s all I’m saying”.  
  
You wondered how he knew, but you already knew the sly looks you’d been giving each other had been enough of a giveaway. Sam’s near outburst in the tent earlier had probably just confirmed his suspicions. Sam reappeared from the kitchen, and eyed you both warily as you sat staring at the drink in front of you and Sullivan leaned back in his chair pretending nothing had passed. “So, I’m told food will be with us in half an hour. That OK?” You nodded blankly, Sullivan chose to actually speak. “That’s great. Thanks. So… Guess we have time for a little chat then?” Your body stiffened, and you prayed to anyone that would listen that this ‘chat’ wasn’t concerning your relations with Sam.  
  
Sullivan turned his entire body to face you, and you felt your body heat turn to sweat. “What’s in the damn bag that’s so interesting?”  
  
Fucking hell. Sullivan would have made a great interrogator. “Right. Bag.” You flustered as you unzipped it, and Sam sat opposite you as he narrowed his eyes slightly and sniffed. You poured the contents out on to the coffee table, and it was the small wrapped up package that immediately caught their attention.  
  
“Fuck. That what I think it is?” Sam spoke fast as he shot a look towards Sullivan, who reached into his pockets and produced a small pocket knife. “No time like the present” Sullivan replied dryly. He flicked the knife open and slit down the small package before dipping the edge of the blade delicately into the heart of the package. As he withdrew it, a powdery white substance coated the edge of the blade. “Fucking knew it” Sam called, slumping dramatically into the back of his couch. Your face was blank as you processed this new information. “So, Trevelyan’s running a drugs operation? A fucking drugs operation. FUCK.” You looked around the room after having spoken, aware your voice may have been a little louder than you’d have cared for.  
  
Sam leant forward in his seat. “Calm down Dollface. It ain’t that bad” he whispered. You contracted your eyes to slits as you hissed at him, “Not that fucking bad? You don’t get it, do you?” Sam didn’t respond, his silence spurring you on. “You’re a cover. We’re a cover. There probably isn’t even a diadem to find!” Sullivan held his hands out and shook them at you both, “OK kids, we all need to take some time out here.” You scoffed and sat back in your seat petulantly. “There’s a diadem, we know that much. We have the research papers. If we’re a cover? So what. We’re getting paid. Get the goddamn item, roll out of here rich.”  
  
Sam leaned his forearms onto his legs and stared you down, “Karpeeshi?” he winked at you, fully aware and apparently reveling in the fact that it was going to roil your anger further. And he was right, it did. Today had been utterly shit, and it didn’t appear that it was going to get any better. “That’s not how you say it. Idiot.” You snarled at him, causing him to grin slyly as he caught Sullivan’s attention, who only sighed deeply. “Sam. The pot. Put it in there.” He muttered at him, casting a quick glance of embarrassment in your direction whilst Sam was busy opening the pot.  
  
“Well shit” Sam spoke, after having lifted the lid off the decaying pot. You sat up immediately, eyes wide. “Shit?” You didn’t like the sound of that, shit having never once being the appropriate word to say upon opening an unknown vessel. He tipped the pot upside down, and a small piece of yellowed paper flew gracefully onto the coffee table. A puzzle perhaps? A memo of the shipment gracefully tucked away?  
  
“Looks like we found your fucking hunch.” Sam scoffed, in disbelief with his eyes wide open and mouth agape. He opened the paper out and smoothed it down on the table. It was a ripped out page of a journal, not too dissimilar to the ones you’d been reading concerning the soldiers who’d moved the shipments. Hastily written pencil marks covered the swirling handwritten prose that had been written so many years ago concerning the artifacts.  
  
“I’ve seen that handwriting before” you excitedly blurted out, unable to contain yourself. “It was on one of the documents I was made to read by… Fuck.” You snatched the small scrap of paper and read the chicken scratched pencil markings. “It’s just letters and numbers. I don’t… Understand?” Sullivan stood up with his hand out, eager to inspect the paper for himself. You handed it to him wordlessly.  
  
“Huh” he began, “Alasdair said there’d be grad students. I guess we missed them.” You looked over at Sam, who just shrugged. Sullivan flumped down on the couch cushion next to you. “What? You two never seen GPS co-ordinates before? The fuck do they teach kids…” he smiled at both of yours and Sam’s open mouths. “We got ourselves a clue.” Sam rubbed his hands together, his eyes bright like lit gasoline. “What? You thinking that’s where we look next? It’s a map, right?”  
  
You weren’t so sure. “What about the grads? You think… I mean those mercs…” Sullivan patted you on the soldier as he continued to survey the paper. “I don’t know about those kids, but it ain’t looking too good from where I’m sitting”. Dumbstruck, you fiddled with the rips on your jeans as you frayed them further. Sam’s earlier attitude towards you appeared to soften and he got up from his seat to nestle on the seat of the couch, close to you. You didn’t feel comforted by his closeness. He leant over the back of the couch as you hunched further forward. “If they got a message in the pot, there’s a chance they’re still alive. Don’t worry” You sneered and closed your eyes, hoping this was all going to turn out to be one really fucked up shitstorm of a dream. Abruptly, you got up and stormed off to the kitchen, anxious for a change of scenery or conversation. Anything, as long as it wasn’t in there. As long as you didn’t have to think of the damned consequences of your future actions.  
  
As you rustled around the fridge looking for a bite to eat to settle your nauseous feeling stomach, you heard footsteps behind you.  
  
“You OK?”  
  
It was Sam, the one person you weren’t sure you wanted to talk to right now. You sighed and closed the door of the fridge, before turning around slowly. “Yeah. Fine. Just, shit… Why them? What did they do? Whatever it was, it wasn’t what they deserved.” Sam moved towards the breakfast bar and leant on it, idly tracing his finger across the marble pattern as he stared down at it. “Probably had more to do with what they knew, Dollface.” His face was sad as he stared down at the counter, aware of the potential misfortune that may have crossed those poor people. He was such a vacuum of emotion, it was almost odd to see him react this way.  
  
“Shit” was your only reply. This was all getting a bit too much, did they also find out about the drugs operation being run from the encampment? Was that why this had happened? But you weren’t even sure that anything had happened, as of yet, this was only pure speculation. Sam looked up at you, his brow creased. “Yeah, shit about sums it up” he held a hand to his temple as he smoothed the creases of his brow out. “But we have like, a map now, right?” How on earth could he actually be serious about following those co-ordinates? Did this man not have an ounce of self-preservation left within him? The worst part of all of this, was you knew you’d be willingly following him into a death trap, and you weren’t even really sure why. You sympathised for the graduates, you really did. If they were still alive, there was a very big chance that they were being held by more mercenaries, and you’d never shot a gun in your life. You wouldn’t be of much use to them. If they were dead, then that ultimately would be where the three of you would end up, and you really didn’t want to risk the possibility of this being a trap. But then they’d managed to slip this piece of the journal into the crate so there was a distinct possibility that they’d managed to get out unseen, or at least one of them had. You realised you hadn’t spoken for a short time, and that you’d been vacantly staring off into the distance past Sam’s shoulder as you processed all of this internally. It was probably time you actually said something.  
  
“A map thing. Sure. You know anything about maps?”


	17. Micro-management

You hunched upstairs, a heavy feeling of guilt overhanging as you thought about those poor graduates who were either no longer alive, or barely clinging on. And all because of that arsehole Trevelyan. Someone must have been desperate to have left co-ordinates, and none of you were sure if the code that was left meant the location of where the graduates had been taken or where an artefact laid in waiting. Either way, only one thing was certain; there was going to be trouble. And you were most certainly going to be involved.  
  
You sighed as you got to room, with your freshly laundered sheets lying there in invite. Earlier you had eaten in silence, all three of you. After your short chat with Sullivan, you didn’t feel there was much left to say to Sam, and every time you’d caught his eye you felt an awkwardness that hadn’t been there before. The more you thought about it, the more it seemed right: you and Sam had jumped into bed pretty much immediately and that wasn’t normal for you, as much as it was for him. Although honestly, what was normal these days? You sat at the edge of your bed, sad and alone. The loneliness had been creeping up on you, and you realised you hadn’t actually spoken to any of your friends or family since landing in Italy- they probably didn’t even realise you’d left the country.  
  
Throwing yourself off the bed, you plugged your phone into an electrical socket to charge and fumbled around your drawers for a set of clean pyjamas. Once dressed you curled your body around a pillow, burying your face into the soft plushness, finally allowing yourself to just rest.  
  
Sam and Sullivan were already downstairs by the time you’d woken up and prepared for the day ahead the next morning. Sullivan had advised that he’d spoken with the client, Alasdair, just last night whilst you’d been sleeping. Alasdair had decided he’d given too much free reign with no results, and now appeared to want to micro-manage the situation from here on out. Sullivan appeared to have very little qualms about this, contrasting wildly with Sam.  
  
“This is bullshit. How the fuck are we supposed to follow the map?!” Sam’s anger showed through his flaring nostrils, and the specks of spittle that flew out wildly across the table. A mere few days ago, that would have made you hot under the collar, but this morning? This morning you lazily followed the flecks of liquid and their final destination, and stared into them. Sullivan tapped you lightly on your shoulder, breaking you from your spell.  
  
“Kid, you even listening?”  
  
You looked around in a slight panic, how long had you actually zoned out for? Had it really been that noticeable? You worst thoughts were confirmed as you saw that Sam was leaning ever so slightly forward on the table in front of you, his brow all creased and his eyes narrowed in concern. You noted his wrinkled brow, and felt the flutter again within.  
  
“Sorry. Took a rain check. Apparently… What were you saying?” you chuckled in embarrassment and felt your cheeks warm up as you trailed off your sentence.  
  
“Trevelyan’s got a tighter grip on us. Means we’re unable to locate the source of those co-ordinates until later on. I’d take a nap if you’re able…” Sullivan snorted, and rubbed his chin absent mindedly. “And kids? Try not piss anyone off today. That means you too” he directed the latter part of his sentence to Sam, who feigned shock in response as he rose both hands in the air. You smiled vacantly, no remark to be made.  
  
“So that means no dynamite, right dear?” Sam smirked, nudging your leg gently under the table. Half blinking your eyes you shot him a cheeky smirk, “I guess not…”  
  
Sullivan snorted in response, and tapped his hand on the table impatiently. “Client’ll be here in ten to get us sorted. I hope you’re both ready for this…” he grunted, his voice lowering as he came to the end of his sentence. Sam’s eyes immediately darted towards you, one eyebrow raised ever so slightly in query, so you shrugged back nonchalantly as an answer. This not being enough, Sam’s foot nudged your leg; a quick tap of his booted toes clashing against your shin bone, causing you to anguish back in pain. Sullivan’s eyes darted to the sides of their sockets warily eyeing you up.  
  
“Girl trouble.” You replied quickly, and he grimaced as he leant his body away from you on the sly, trying ever so hard to hide it so as not to offend. He sneered slightly, his moustache lifting at one corner, “Well, just take it easy then kid.” You chuckled inwardly, men could be so squeamish about these sorts of things. Sam was staring down at the table, his lips quirked in a crooked smile as if he were trying to hold it back, your answer to Sullivan completely having thrown him off from the under table conversation he’d attempted earlier with you.  
  
Footsteps and chatter emanated from the grand hallway, and you presumed this meant the client had arrived. Sure as eggs are eggs, he flew through the room without an announcement, a straggling woman behind him with a notebook binder and a pinched face of arrogance behind him. “Good morning, all. I take it you received the directive from Mr. Sullivan?” he was directing himself at yourself and Sam, who was currently drumming his fingers on the table top. “Yep.” Sam replied, reigned in completely thank God since Sullivan’s last declaration towards him. Trevelyan laughed as he widened his eyes in mock relief, the cut glass laugh fake and a little unnerving.  
  
“Well then, the car is waiting. We’ll discuss more on the way there” He extended an arm towards the doorway, before clasping it around the shoulder of Sullivan who was the first to get up. With his free hand making his way to chest, he produced a small wooden box. “I don’t smoke the bastard things, but I understand you’re quite the connoisseur?” Sullivan croaked a small laugh from the back of his throat and shook Trevelyan’s hand as he accepted the gift. You were stood in the living room still with Sam, who nudged you idly with his shoulder. Exchanging a glance with him, you could see he was unhappy about this. He whispered lowly to you through pursed lips, “If I don’t get a bottle of scotch, there’ll be hell to pay. Just sayin’”. You chuckled and nudged him back with your arm, “Come on big guy, let’s go see what fun’s in store…” He smirked a devilish grin at you, and you both marched off towards the vehicle that awaited you outside.  
  
Sullivan and Trevelyan both sat in the vehicle, with Trevelyan sat in the front passenger seat. His PA had stayed inside the villa, no doubt a barrage of administrative tasks left for her to sort out. That was no big loss, she’d said nothing to you and only sneered at you and Sam both as you’d made your way to the vehicle. It just meant one less person to fool today, which could only be a good thing.  
  
“So, the grand adventure begins” Trevelyan piped up, his enthusiastic sounding voice dripping with sarcasm. You rested your head on the window and sighed deeply, causing Sam to nudge your knee with his own. After your earlier chat with Sullivan, you weren’t in the mood for flirting with him right now, it just felt unclean even with the butterflies floating in your stomach. You moved your knees close together and turned your body fully to face the window as you peeked outside, choosing to ignore him. As you zoned out, you heard that Trevelyan was explaining the dig sites and their importance to finding the diadem, in the background of your mind, you couldn’t help but snort at hearing this, knowing what you did now.  
  
“Something to add?” he chirped at you, his head fully turned around to look at you. You gulped inaudibly and shook your head. “Nothing of interest, I’m afraid” you added to your shellshocked face, trying to hide your cynicism, as you plastered an inane grin across your features.  
  
Trevelyan scoffed at your comment and turned his head quickly to look out of the front window of the car. “Yeah well at least we won’t have the same trouble as yesterday, right?” Sam added to the silence, looking around at all of you with a face of pureness that you knew was a complete lie. That man hadn’t been pure a day in his life, you surmised. Trevelyan nodded his head once and narrowed his eyes, “Well my men never caught the perpetrator, but I’m sure that they will be thoroughly scared off now that I’ve added to the manpower”.  
  
Great, you thought. He’d added to the manpower. That was the short way of saying ‘I’ve added more mercs to the scene guys’- that was the exact opposite of what you needed. You hoped that God was listening, that the mercs hadn’t be added to the site which you needed to scout tonight.  
  
The utter silence and dread that went through the three of you (Sam, Sullivan and yourself that is) filled the atmosphere of the car. Trevelyan caught on almost immediately, “Ahhh, I take it you were well acquainted the other day? Well no worries, their orders are very simple- to stay away, that is…” he seemed amused by this, as if he already knew what you had found- however impossible that was. There was no way he could possibly have known, Sullivan had made sure that the package was completely hidden, and Sam had made sure he had a firm grip on the paper that contained the co-ordinates. It was almost impossible that Trevelyan had caught onto that. However he continued, “Glenn was most perturbed by the attack- a mindless act of vandalism no doubt. The locals haven’t exactly been pleased by our presence, but with my men in tow? Well, we don’t have a thing to worry about”.  
  
Sullivan tapped on the release handle of the car, “Well, we’re professionals. We don’t let shit like that put us off. Don’t worry”. Sam nodded once to his statement, “Yeah, amen to that brother”. You sat there, wordlessly, with nothing further to add.  
  
Trevelyan turned around again to glower at you all, “Well, if you’re professionals my men shan’t bother you at all nor even think to do so. All is well in the world”.  
  
Sam shrugged his shoulders in release, rolling them to and fro. “Great. So we’re all on the same page then?” he added, as his shoulders clicked. The car rumbled as it made its up way a hill, unable to cope with the steepness.  
  
“We should stop here. It’s only a short walk away, are we all ready?” Trevelyan spoke, looking around as if he expected an answer, which he obviously didn’t. “Brilliant, si prega di fermare la machinna” he directed towards the driver, who automatically applied the handbrake in response without saying a word. “Right, well let’s take a short jaunt then shall we? Glenn isn’t here, but I’m sure whatever he would add wouldn’t be of much importance anyway”.  
  
Well at least there was the small blessing that Glenn wouldn’t be here today, you didn’t want to have to deal with that arsehole today. One was enough per day, you reasoned. As Sullivan and Trevelyan let themselves out of the car, Sam leaned in close towards you. “Hey Doll, we’re in this together, yeah?” he said, as he then turned towards the open door that Sullivan had left open. Staring up towards the felt roof of the car, you groaned. This man was really going to be the death of you, and you were no longer as excited as you had been. You fumbled with the handle of the door at your own side to release the door, and slowly got out. The heat of the wind got to you immediately, and you groaned again as you realised today was going to be the longest of days.  
  
God, your future nap couldn’t come soon enough, and neither could tonight. Tonight was going to be where you got answers from, and the excitement and fear were so ready to overcome you.  
  
Please let the graduates be safe, was all you could think. Please.


	20. A Different sort of Management

As you walked up the gravelly hill, you inwardly cursed your choice of footwear. Bits of gravel kicked up at your heels and nicked at them, leaving small cuts all up your ankles. You felt bits of gravel kick up at your heels, scoring your ankles and couldn’t help the gasps of frustration that escaped from your mouth as they did so. Rubbing at your heels, you saw Sam turn around, who had been effortlessly making his way up the hill before now, his big feet pounding into the earth, no doubt setting off the chunks of gravel to hit you in the first place. “You OK babe?” he enquired. You instantly cursed your choice of your attire, exposed ankles were a nightmare. You weren’t expecting this level of activity in your repertoire when you’d dressed yourself, and thought you’d been pretty well equipped before now. You grunted at Sam as you rubbed your ankles. Sullivan turned around to look at you both, frown lines evident on his wrinkled visage, “Don’t expect a piggy back darling”.  
  
You chuckled as you continued to rub your sore ankles. “Wouldn’t want to break your back old man” you replied cheekily. His face lightened significantly, and he laughed as he looked wistfully into the distance, up the hill.  
  
Trevelyan walked up the incline fluently, shirt, chinos, brogues and all. “Darling, it’s not so bad” he added, smoothly. You died inside as he said that, Sam noticing as he shot you a wounding look. “Doll, if you need a hand, just let me know. I’m a dab hand at piggy backs…” he said, making you wince. The last thing you needed right now was Samuel Drake pitying you, flirty though it was. You trudged on, ankles hurting and all. “I’m fine” you huffed, as you made your way up.  
  
Sam shrugged his shoulders as you answered, as he took out a cigarette to huff on his way up the hill. You continued your way up, cuts and all before you got to a set of tents, not unlike those earlier you’d seen at the encampment the day before. You looked around, but there was still no sign of the graduates. You huffed as you looked around, despondent. They were nowhere to be seen, which meant they were possibly murdered, or at least imprisoned somewhere, the co-ordinates had to be a warning sign not a preclusive to treasure. You were sure. Trevelyan turned around to you, hearing your loud sigh, “Is everything alright darling?” he enquired, his smooth voice cutting right through you like glass.  
  
You shuddered as his words shook through you. “Fine” you answered, unsure really how to answer him. It was now the second time you’d said that today, without meaning it. He chuckled to himself as he lifted up the opening to a canvas tent, “Are we all of us ready then?” he asked, as he lifted the piece of canvas to head height. You made your way inside, followed by both Sam and Sullivan.  
  
Looking around the tent, you noticed a pinboard that was scattered with pictures, notes and post-it notes haphazardly pasted on top. You scanned the board for a clue to the location of the graduates. Absolutely nothing, which wasn’t all that surprising really. To have found a scrap of paper indicative of what was going on, well that would have been far too much to ask for. You were dealing with a smuggler who attempted to cover his tracks by ‘specialising’ in artefacts to be shipped across the world. Quite clever really, when you thought about it.  
  
You felt a presence behind you, and Alasdair was stood shortly behind with his arms crossed in front of him, blocking him off. You shyly looked away, and crossed over to the centre console in the tent, making sure to look inquisitive by nature, rather than seeking out a particular item, which you reasoned would only draw attention to the fact that the three of you were onto ‘something’ in this game he was playing.  
  
Sullivan was the first to break the silence. “So, no luck on the digsites then? We’ve not been given anything to find this head gear. Kid over there says the journals show nothing…” He scratched his at his arm absent-mindedly, no doubt suffering from nicotine withdrawals after the small hike to the tent. The scratching noise seemed intensified by the lack of an answer on Alasdair’s behalf, who was far too engrossed in merely standing back and watching you all intensely. Sam seemed ill at ease, his body language tense, as if ready to pounce at a second’s notice.  
  
“So no maps? Nothin’?” he enquired after Alasdair, his voice raised slightly and irritable. Alasdair shook his head, and sighed deeply. “Nothing, I’m afraid Mr. Drake”, Alasdair replied. His eyes narrowed and he leant forward, raising an eyebrow. “After all, that is why I’m paying you, yes? For goods and services rendered.” He stood up, and it was only now you could see the gun that jutted out at his side, menacingly. “And thus far, I have no goods, and as for service? Well, do I really need to explain that one at length?”  
  
You stood there motionless, unable to form a coherent sentence with which to answer him, leaving you almost sullen and guilty like a child that’s been told off by their mother. Could it be possible that he knew about your discovery? It wasn’t completely unthinkable that he’d take you back to the middle of the Italian countryside and dispose of you all. Perhaps Sam and Sullivan had realised that too, altogether too late.  
  
An icy laugh ran through your body, disrupting your thoughts. Alasdair had sat back down, and was laughing away to himself, completely amused by your gloomed faces. “You all really ought to cheer up a little” He shook his head as he laughed and followed with a deadpan stare, “You’ll live longer”. Your body remained stiff and you tried to emit a chuckle, which was strained and forced from your vocal chords.  
  
“If we all read the journals, maybe something will come across that I missed?” you shrugged, trying in vain to appear innocent about what you now knew. Alasdair nodded his head with his eyes half closed, “Finally- an ounce of intelligence”. You let it slide, but saw Sam’s nostrils widen as his mouth twisted into a puckered circle of chapped lips. He was behaving at least, and not rising to the insult.  
  
“Right. Well someone had to show initiative.” You shot Alasdair a look with your nose upturned, a smile that didn’t reach your eyes plainly evident across your face. He smirked and stood up again, walking slowly over to you before placing a hand on your shoulder. “Sit down then dear, you’ve a lot to get started on”.  
  
God, you were really starting to hate this man. You thought his lackey the other day had been bad, but at least Glenn hadn’t been dangerous. He was too self-absorbed for that.  
  
Alasdair opened up a cabinet to the side of the room, and took out paper folders with post-it notes and bull dog clips keeping the tattered papers safely within. “You can all make a start on these, and I’ll take a report at the end of the day”. He slapped the folders down on the centre table, and crossed his arms.  
  
“I hate to manage people like this, but it appears to be the only way to get what I want, especially when you’re paid by the day.” He squared his body up slightly to Sam, who was trying in vain not to respond, “I’m not a man who likes to be fucked around. So please, do try to keep that to a minimum.” He turned around suddenly, and eyed you up from top to bottom. “I’ll be back in 7 hours, and you can report on your findings before we have dinner.”  
  
As he burst out of the tent, Sam’s anger had reached boiling point and he punched his fist down hard on the table, his head hanging low as he worked out his inner anger, his lips moving silently. Sullivan strode over and grabbed a chair. “Jesus kid, we’ve dealt with worse” he said, as he grabbed the top folder of papers and opened it up, sighing deeply. “Never been a big fan of reading. Any of these got pictures?” he chuckled, his moustache riding up slightly into his nasal passage. You grinned and sat down with him, grabbing another folder, “Swapsies?” you offered to him, and he beamed back at you. 

  


Sam looked up suddenly, and diverted his gaze between the both of you, as if you’d both gone mad. “Are you seriously for fucking real?” he said, his palms face down on the table as he leant upon it. You looked over at Sullivan, who only shrugged in response. Sam sniffed and wiped his nose with a hand, before pushing his hair back from his face. “No one’s going to address whatever the fuck that just was?” he laughed to himself grimly, and shook his head to himself with his eyes closed. “Right. So school time, then. Great.” Defeated he sat down and took a folder himself, before grabbing a pen and a notepad. He fiddled with the pen in his hand, shaking it vigorously between his fingers as he opened the front page and bore his vision on the photocopies pages within. His leg tapped anxiously on the floor, and he’d only just had a cigarette, so you guessed that wasn’t the causative factor in this action. You sighed deeply, and threw your folder down.  
  
“Can you stop that?” You began, and he shot a steely look at you before replying, “Oh I’m sorry Princess, this bothering you?” Sneering at him, you snorted and buried your face again with the pages. Regiment of soldiers, check. Movement of goods, check. This was all stuff you’d read before. But what about the co-ordinates. What did they mean?  
  
“Do we have a map of the dig-sites?” Sullivan looked over at you and his eyes crinkled as the realisation hit him, “You said those numbers and that were a map, so…” He leant forward excitedly and replied, “Kid, I could kiss you!” You leant far away in your seat, “Please boss, don’t”. Sam’s face lit up slightly as he grinned at you. All three of you flicked furiously through your folders for a map of the areas that had been searched. Nothing. Realising that the cabinet to the side appeared to contain the necessary information pertaining to the archaeological dig, Sam strode over towards it, knocking his chair over in the process. He fumbled with the papers within, nothing.  
  
“Well, shit” he said, defeated and leaning back on the ground. Your idea was for nothing, but did it have to be paper maps? You looked over at him in concern, before turning to Sullivan. “Anyone got a phone with signal?” you queried, hoping that someone had at least bought a phone plan that didn’t eat away data like a mouse in a cupboard.  
  
Sam’s phone was an outdated brick, and you were surprised it even still worked when he placed it on the table. Sullivan’s own phablet seemed a lot more like what you needed. You hovered your hand over it, and eyed him curiously, “May I?”. He nodded and leant in to the table. Opening up Google Maps, you passed it back to him. “I have no idea what I’m doing, and this could be a long shot… But it’s the best we’ve got, right?”  
  
He grinned, “Seriously kid, if this works you’re getting a kiss”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the late posting of this chapter- I had some life stuff and then had a slight creative block but I'm back on it again!


	21. A Plan Comes Together

As you input the stream of co-ordinates into the window browser of Sullivan’s phone (with his eagle eye cast over every quiver of your finger), you eventually brought up a spot not so far from the camp.  
“So… That’s it?” Sam enquired, leaning over the both of you causing a waft of cigarettes and cheap aftershave to glide up your nostrils effortlessly. All three of you stared at the phone, and you placed it back onto the table precariously. “Were you expecting a stream of goddamn light to echo from the sky, kid?” Sullivan asked, “Or perhaps you’d like a tour guide?” He muttered as he picked his phone up and placed it in the front pocket of his gaudy shirt. “We got co-ordinates, and that’s all we need with an old sea dog like me around” He tapped the side of his nose knowingly, smugly almost. You laughed, and looked down at the aerial view map you’d drawn on a scrap of paper. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do. You weren’t exactly a cartographer, so as far as you were concerned it made sense to you and that was all that matters. Folding the piece of paper up, you tapped it on the table in front whilst you waited for Sullivan to divulge more, but it never came. 

“Lemme see that” Sam said, as he tried to wrestle the piece of paper from your hand. You flicked it out with two fingers, offering it over to him, “Just don’t expect too much, OK? I’m not an artist…” you chuckled and watched as he unfurled it, a confused look crossing his brow. “You aren’t kidding Doll. Seen better work at kindergarten” he retorted, a grin uplifting the corner of his mouth as he stared down at the chicken scratchings of biro that made out the destination you were to explore later. You shook your head and crossed your arms, “Wow. Kindergarten. Cute.” You weren’t really in the mood to argue, and honestly? The drawing was pretty crap, you couldn’t really blame him.  
  
He grabbed a pen and added to your crude diagram, symbols that only he would know the meaning of followed with shorthand. “There. Perfect.” Both Sullivan and yourself looked down at the piece of paper, and then to one another, neither quite sure what had been drawn. “Kid, you want to explain that pile of crap?” Sullivan queried, not bothering to look at Sam, his eyes squarely fixated on the ever-increasingly flimsy scrap of paper. Sam, excited, motioned both of his hands as they hovered over the scrap. “So, the big X” he jabbed a finger down on the spot, “That’s the centre piece of those co-ordinates, right?” He looked over at you, like an excited puppy at playtime. “And Y/N here, she drew the surrounding mountainside. So, it’s a cave. Right?” Sullivan nodded slowly, catching on slowly. You sat there, unaware of where exactly Sam was taking this. “So I read that this soldier guy… Errr, Franco, I think his name was? He describes a cave, with a stream where they stored some of the loot. Coincidence?” Sullivan gave a hearty laugh and slapped Sam on the back, “Good going Kid.” 

“There wasn’t a stream in the aerial view on Sullivan’s phone, though…” you chirped from your seat, not comfortable with how easy this was panning out. Sam shook his head defiantly, “Streams run dry, Doll”. You rolled your eyes, and grabbed a folder, hiding your face before muttering, “They sure do”. Sam eyed you suspiciously, he still wasn’t aware of your chat with Sullivan earlier, and whilst you weren’t angry at him, you had attempted to cool your feelings towards him- if anything was going to get you killed, it was going to be your feelings. Best to not have them in the first place.  
  
“So, we’re on for exploring this tonight, right?” Sam sounded as though he’d break out into song, he was that excited. It would be almost worrying, if you hadn’t had that chat earlier with Sullivan which laid out his personality blankly. Sweat run from his brow, and he brushed at it casually with the back of his hand. Sullivan pouted his mouth slightly, and extended a hand to Sam, both men shaking the other’s hand and patting each other on the back harmoniously. You lifted your head from the folder, both men had turned to you. You sighed heavily, and extended your hand, with Sam almost knocking over the table to shake it. Sullivan sniggered, and walked around the table, waiting until Sam had finished. As he shook your hand, he brought you into a hug, and kissed your cheek. “Told ‘ya I’d kiss you, kid” he smirked as he patted your shoulder affectionately.  
  
You smirked and batted him away with a hand, “Well that wasn’t as bad as I was expecting, so I’ll let you off. This time”. Sullivan bristled a little in amusement, with Sam stood there looking almost bemused- perhaps a little jealous at the display of affection. Your cheeks had reddened, and you tried your best to hide it as you patted at them. “I can’t believe you actually did that” you proclaimed, loudly in jest. You clutched the kiss that had been tainted by his lips, as if the mark hurt you. Sullivan stood there with an ever growing grin, “Kid, I couldn’t help myself with a pretty dame like you”. Well at least now you knew where Sam had learnt some of his tricks. 

You busied yourself hurriedly with your folder of papers, as you noticed Sam’s ever increasing look of worry. It wasn’t that you wanted to hurt him, only that you didn’t know how to deal with the situation. The two of you had jumped into bed so eagerly, that it couldn’t be love, only lust. Were you really ready for such heartache? It already hurt enough after hearing from Sullivan that’d be used as an effective masturbatory toy after all. You had feelings, and they had to be protected. You shot Sam a look of reconciliation, soft eyes and bulging apples of your cheeks to show that no malice lay between you – under the circumstances it was positively a white flag. He stood there, motionless, and you were unable to positively read the emotions that scattered across his features. 

“So tonight? We have a plan?” he began, completely brushing off the cross of emotions between you both. You’d be almost upset, had you not been made privy to his real state. Sullivan peered over at him, his arms stuffed heavily into his pockets, he shrugged nonchalantly. “Kid, do we ever have a plan?” You chuckled as his moustache bristled, and realised only too late that you’d been caught out and heard. “I guess” you began, “That we just sort of… You know?” How were you going to continue this diatribe? Sheer ‘winging it’ seemed appropriate, come what may. “I guess we just play along for now, and reconvene at midnight? Just past here? If we travel together, it’d be too obvious?” The hesitation in your voice sounded out like a songbird- you were almost completely sure that neither of them would buy it. 

“That’s fucking genius”

Sam just had to ruin your thought stream, of course he thought the idea was genius. He was reckless, a vagabond when it came to carefully laid out plans. Why had you not thought of that? You looked at him, mouth fully agape, unable to reason thought further and backtrack on your evidently flawed plan. Sullivan exchanged a glance between you both, he wasn’t an idiot. As he looked at your pained face of anguish, and that of Sam’s delirious delight he must have known that you hadn’t said a word. “Sounds good Kid. Just getting us there, that’s the problem.”

Sam shook his head between you and Sullivan, as excited as a child in Wonka’s factory. “We get separate taxis- from the side road. How will they know it’s us? We walk a mile or two to stagger it- they won’t tell.”

Brilliant. Your ex-lover was more reckless than you’d ever begun to have dared to thought. Well, at this point was there any point in disagreeing?


	22. The Pick-Up Point

Journeying back to the villa had been uneventful at best. The three of you had remained silent, the day’s work of scholastic research having thoroughly worn you all out. The silence had permeated to an uncomfortable level, and you really weren’t looking forward to the mission at hand later on tonight. 

You plumped down on your bed, the smell of fresh linens and faint whiff of lemon filling your nose instantly, and you relished in the delicate bouquet of freshness. Your comfort was disturbed by a buzz in your pocket- your phone alerting you to a message. Your flatmate, no doubt. 

Hey Doll. So- noticed everything ain’t right… You wanna tell me what’s up? Sam xx

You sighed heavily and re-read the message several times over. You couldn’t respond how you really wanted to – after what Sullivan had divulged it was never going to come across cogently. You’d just be another crazy girl, in the long line of Sam’s failed romances, imagined or not. Best to avoid the situation really, that’s what you were good at. Shoving it under the carpet and pretending it had never existed. It never should have, if you were honest with yourself. Starved of attention and looking for a way out, you’d found yourself in bed with your boss, and you couldn’t face having to bring up the conversation with him. He was worse than you after all, if what Sullivan had said was true, he wouldn’t be any better at this conversation than you yourself would have been. Definitely better to let sleeping dogs lie. 

You chucked your phone with gusto onto an adjacent chair where a pile of your clothes lay in a tumbled state. Laundry could wait too. Right now, it was time to rest before you had to get to work later on in the night. You fell asleep, fully dressed. 

Knocking on the door awoke you from your slumber. Groggily, you ran your hair through your fingers as you yawned. It was 10 o’clock – you easily had another hour and a half in bed before the rendezvous. Throwing yourself off your bed, you stumbled towards the doorway and undid the lock hastily, only to be presented with Sam. Stood there, slicking his hair back nervously. 

“So you never did say what’s up…” If he had it within him, you’d have guessed that he was almost nervous. You shrugged, and didn’t hide the yawn that escaped from your mouth. 

“Just tired.” You replied. It was believable enough, you had only just pretty much yawned in his face, he’d buy it. 

“Huh” He walked past you without a care, towards the console where you were keeping your sundries. He fiddled with the bottles, picking them up and reading the labels. “Did you seriously come in here to borrow moisturiser? It’s 10pm.” You sounded grumpier than you had wanted to come across, but he was getting in the way of vital sleeping time. He placed the bottle carefully on the surface of the console, and eyed you up as he turned around slowly, a smirk on his face. “Ain’t no amount of moisturiser that’ll fix these wrinkles Doll”. He winked at you, and you nodded your head slowly before moving to sit on the bed. “So this isn’t just about stealing my cosmetics then?” 

The way he moved towards the bed could almost be construed as predatory. Long limbed strides, with a swagger brought him over to you, but you noted he was careful to keep a small distance between you. Perhaps you really had been acting awkwardly lately, you weren’t sure he was one to pick on subtle cues. 

“So you want to tell me what this is about?” His voice was low and careful, his hands nervously flickering about as he spoke, it seemed he’d picked up a little Italian, even if it was only the hand gestures and none of the actual dialogue. He didn’t seem like one to ever be nervous about anything- he was a bull in a china shop, charging around and never thinking of the consequences. You stared down into the floor, boring a hole with your focused eyes, unable to look at him. “I told you. I’m tired.” 

He wasn’t buying it. “You’ve been like this for days now. I’m just s’posed to pretend nothing’s going on?” Exasperated, the movements of his head and moved his carefully slicked back hair, odd strands now surrounding his face. You simply shrugged, there was nothing to say. Or at least there was, but you didn’t want to say it. He sighed, louder than you’d ever heard before. On looking up, you saw that he had a hand on his face, covering his eyes and nose. Fingers massaged at his forehead, sending the skin back and fro. “Fine, I get it. Not a talker. Forget I said anything.” He took off in a whirlwind towards your door, angry footsteps thumping down on the plush carpet. You’d pissed him off, but it was for the best, and really? You had expected this type of reaction from him. He’d cool off in a few days, and you go probably find a new job once back in town. One that didn’t involve the sort of lifestyle he seemed accustomed to. 

You reverted back to your bed, and made sure your alarm was still set. In a short while, you’d be up again, and you wanted to make sure you were as rested as was feasibly possible. 

 

The erratic buzzing of your phone vibrations woke you immediately. You flicked your thumb across the screen to turn it off, and stared up at the ceiling. It was finally go time. You heaved your body out of the plush inviting bed, and threw the covers off that had enveloped you just briefly. Rubbing at your temples, you groaned. If you were completely honest with yourself, you weren’t sure what to expect. From Sullivan’s grumblings, he appeared to think the graduates were long dead. One of many casualties to Trevelyan’s pet research project. Whatever they had uncovered, it was bad. You presumed this was more than just the drugs however, although with a man like him, no one could ever be completely sure. 

You threw new clothes on, and just a dab of makeup to boot. Whilst you were almost completely sure you’d pissed Sam off to high heavens, a girl still had to do her best. And right now, your best was covering up the bags that had accumulated underneath your eyes. 

You trundled down the stairway, careful to not let your footsteps resonate throughout the villa. Sullivan had sorted out pick up points for you along the road, and you had to get there. The sound of a door opening and closing stopped you in your tracks. In a vain attempt at espionage, you crouched to hide the bulk of your body behind the wooden slats of the staircase. A maid, busy with her night’s work ahead of her bustled through the main hallway of the house, her music blaring loudly from the earbuds shoved into her eardrums. Well, at least she wasn’t about to notice you. As she dusted the ornaments that lay carefully placed, you crept up to the front doorway, and didn’t look back. 

You breathed out a large sigh of relief as you closed the doorway, and focused on the pathway ahead. The maid had been too busy singing along to the latest Europop anthem to even notice the heavy footsteps as you’d ran to the doorway. A small blessing, you silently thanked the heathens of Europop for releasing a trance-disco mix of gaudiness to cover you. You walked swiftly down the driveway, a half-run that would have looked foolish to any passer-by, thankfully however there were none. As you made your way to the designated spot, you saw the faint illumination of a crooked nose lit up by the end of the cigarette. Sullivan had engineered your spot to be at the same location as Sam’s, that crafty old bastard… This time the sigh that left your nose breathily caught someone’s attention- Sam’s. The click of his safety attach of his gun made your eyes widen instantaneously- fear filling the blood rising within your veins. 

“Well shit Doll, don’t creep up on a guy like that. I almost shot you!”

You laughed in relief as he lowered the weapon, and clutched at your chest, your heart beating so loud and fierce you feared it might just burst out. “Yeah, don’t… Don’t do that again, OK?” He nodded and unlatched the safety, his gun returned to his waist holster. Hi flicked errant ash from his cigarette, and hummed gently, no answer to be given. Frowning, you walked over to him. “So…” you began, “Is it my turn to ask what’s wrong? Or is that out of line… After earlier, I mean.” He didn’t look at you, merely concentrating on his cigarette and the intake of nicotine. You took that to mean he hadn’t gotten over the passing between you. Nodding, you turned around so as not to face him. “Still annoyed, got it.” 

You absent-mindedly removed your phone from your pocket, and checked your messages. Nothing yet from Sullivan. As you flickered from all of your social media apps, Sam grunted. 

“What you think we’ll find?” 

You turned around and shrugged, your face confused. “Dunno… Guess we’ll find out?” You shot him a smirk, and he half-heartedly returned one at you, before withdrawing another cigarette. “Think it’s gonna be that easy, huh kid?” He’d returned to your old nickname, which was apparently his way of letting you know your status had been debased. Two could play at that game. “Dunno old man, but we’ll see.” You shifted dirt beneath your feet, “I’m hopeful that they’re OK. The grads, I mean…” You couldn’t smile this time, no happiness to be derived from the situation they’d been placed in. Whilst it was true, that you were hopeful… You also knew that Trevelyan was dangerous. However curt his demeanour may have been. 

Sam exhaled loudly, and nodded slowly as he looked at the ground. “Someone’s gotta be, Doll…” You could almost have sworn that he said the last of his words with affection, if you’d been a lesser girl, and that you hadn’t been warned already by his associate- and your boss. 

Before you could answer, headlights and the roaring of an engine caught your attention as a clapped-out heap of metal made its up the hill. Sam extended a hand with an uplifted eyebrow, “You ready to start the proper adventure babygirl?”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the long wait for this chapter- life has been VERY hectic.


End file.
